


Then Love Is Sin, And Let Me Sinful Be

by SoHereWeAre



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Analingus, Angst and Porn, Arguing, Attempted Seduction, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Bisexuality, Blasphemy, Bondage, Brother/Sister Incest, Catholicism, Cock Bondage, Crucifix dildo, Cunnilingus, Dark, Dark Past, Dark Robb, Dark Sansa, Desecration of religious items, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Flashbacks, Forbidden Love, Guilt, Hair-pulling, Heavy Angst, Improper Use of a Rosary, Insecurity, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, Lust, Masturbation, Mind Games, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Misuse of Crucifix, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parish - Freeform, Possessive Sex, Power Dynamics, Priest Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Recreational Drug Use, Religion Kink, Religious Conflict, Revelations, Revenge Sex, Robb is a priest, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seduction, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sibling Incest, Temptation, Twisted, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Urophilia, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, You Have Been Warned, breakthroughs, confessional oral sex, toothbrush fetish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 84,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12571960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoHereWeAre/pseuds/SoHereWeAre
Summary: Father Robb Stark has settled into his new Parish, beloved by his parishioners and the townspeople alike. His quiet, seemingly charmed life is turned upside down when his sister Sansa arrives in town. While she manages to assimilate herself into the community as a paragon of generosity and goodness, she shows an entirely different side to her priest brother in an attempt to reconnect with him and confront the past after a decade apart.Warning: Contains incest (of course) and dark themes.Fic title is from John Donne's work: Astrophil and Stella, Sonnet 14





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansafeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansafeels/gifts).



> I will warn you: This is not a fluff piece and will be very dark. There will be some points of light here and there, but if you are looking for a straight-up fairy tale, it will not be found here.
> 
> That being said, if you are still ready for this one, enjoy... and thank you.
> 
> Special thank you to sansafeels, for the inspiration and push.

"Is - is that all I need to do? Oh, well, then I - I thank you, Father. "

Father Robb Stark surpressed a smile. Even though he knew it could not be be seen he realized it was inappropriate and he tried to settle his face in more placid lines. The angst-ridden parishioner had poured her heart out to him over thinking her prayer shawl knitting circle consisted of nothing but busybody, fat, know-it-all cows. He passed down a small penance by suggesting she redouble her efforts to be kind to her fellow knitters and forgive the gossip.

“Go with God, child, and thank God for this good confession.” 

After some grateful mumbling, the elderly lady exited the confessional. Her cane made loud clanking noises on the newly polished floors of the church as she ambled away. Robb knew who it was by her voice and her cane and he gave in to the grin; he knew the ladies of whom she spoke and they were indeed the town's worst gossips. Then again, Mrs. Manderly was a huge gossip herself. Casting stones...

Robb shifted in his seated position as he waited for the next parishioner, smoothing out his dark purple stole and straightening his simple wooden pectoral cross, the only additions to his traditional black cassock. It was usually only during Mass and Confessionals when he wore his cassock or full garb. The cross was painstakingly hand carved for him and was a gift from his congregation as a whole and he cherished it, always donning it when he wore his full priest garb. In his lap lay his well worn Bible, passages marked to offer up comfort and reassurance after confession. This was perhaps his least favorite time of the week but it was necessary for one to cleanse the soul and unburden sins to God. It was during these times that Robb was grateful for his assigned parish: a small, modest church in a small, modest town near the deep country, away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities. Moletown, Colorado with a population of only eighteen thousand might seem like a most undesirable assignment to a more ambitious priest, but it suited Robb just fine. His education and pastoral formation and internship had led him here and he accepted it as God's will. Besides, overseeing his own church and tending to his own flock was his goal, no matter what the size. He had only turned thirty this year and all he had strove for was now at its culmination. The townsfolk loved him, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, and Robb hoped to never receive a notice for a transfer. Moletown felt like home to him even more than the city he grew up in.

He didn't want to think of home. This was his home now. 

It was with some relief that he heard his next confessor entering the confessional. He raked his fingers through his dark auburn curls and impatiently scratched at his light, closely-shaved beard. He had been meaning to do away with the facial hair but couldn't seem to part with it. For a moment he paused and peered through the screen, only able to see the form of another woman. This one was far younger than the previous occupant. He opened his mouth for a standard but friendly greeting, but the woman spoke first.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was about ten years ago and these are my sins -"

The voice was low, almost a whisper, and Robb couldn't help but inwardly groan. A decade since a last confession? He hoped this was the last one for the day as ten years contain a lot of sinning to confess to. Already he was forming in his mind the words to say to encourage her to confess more frequently. As he suspected, she began to talk about the usual things: she's lied to her parents, had premarital sex, didn't really love her boyfriend. She was full of pride and put money and her own interests ahead of others. He found himself wandering away in his mind for a moment, only to be met with silence. Of course. She must be done. He cleared his throat and rambled off a couple of passages for her reassurance.

"Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

"Thank you, Father. There is one more sin I must confess. It is a grave sin." Her voice was caressing, smooth, not sounding at all like one who was contrite over any sin.

"God forgives sin and grave sin alike, my child. All you need do is ask."

"I have a deep lust in my heart and nothing will slacken it. I've indulged in the sin of sexual gratification with many men to try to banish it but it seems to only increase my desire. I don't know what to do."

Deep lust and desire. As far as confessions, Robb preferred anything to this. Even with all his training and conditioning, a small part of him cringed. He was a man of God and should feel and act in accordance to serving the Lord. But sometimes some things were hard to stomach. For one simple and undeniable reason: he was subject to no such emotion.

"God never fails. Turn your troubles to Him. Desist in seeking out sins of the flesh and instead find His face in where your faith and love of God leads you."

"But Father, my lust has plagued me for many years." The woman exhaled a deep sigh as if preparing for her next words with some effort. "It was forced upon me but I reveled in it. It is even more sickening and a more grave sin because it involves my own brother. My flesh and blood. Incest is a sin and a crime, is it not? I will never be clean. I will never be free. It's wrong and I cannot stop."

Robb's body froze as the Bible fell off his lap and landed on the confessional floor with a gentle thud as his heart hammered in his chest. _Ten years. A decade_. He closed his cerulean blue eyes and behind them he saw long, auburn hair flowing around a pale, frightened face. He could smell the lavender of her, feel the softness of her skin. Even now her scent assaulted his memory. Now, when she was thousands of miles away for so many years. His blood quickened. It was as if demons stirred passions that had laid dormant for so long. 

"Father, are you there? My penance?"

"Two Our Fathers and Five Hail Marys. Submerse yourself in good works and deeds in the name of our Lord. And - and -" His voice cracked at his perfunctory response. _It's wrong. But I cannot stop. You belong to me and only me_. "Abstain completely from the temptations of flesh. God wants you to respect your body as a temple in celebration of His pure love."

Automatically he raised a trembling right hand and held a monotone while delivering the Absolution, even as he found it hard to breathe. After it was completed his turned to peer through the screen. All he could see was the woman had long hair and a slim profile.

"The Lord has freed you from sin. May he bring you safely to his kingdom in heaven. Glory to him for ever. Amen."

" _The things I want to do to you would keep me out of heaven_."

His breath caught. He was sure he did not hear her true words but was suddenly too afraid to ask her to repeat herself. He was imagining things, just like he was imagining a red-haired beauty on the other side of the wall.

"Sansa," he whispered, reaching out to touch the patterned screen. " _Sansa_."

" _Who_ ?" No longer low and quiet, the woman's voice was sharp and it cut through him like a killing knife. Shrill and shocked, almost. _The shock in her tone. Disbelief in her blue eyes."Robb, what are you doing? What are you_ -"

Panic and dread filled him as the woman stood up and exited the confessional. It was against propriety and decency but after a moment, Robb jumped out of his seat and out of his side of the booth, shutting the door with a slam behind him. He could smell the lavender in the air but wondered if it was real or imagined. Small beads of sweat formed as he rounded the corner to confront the mystery woman, even as he knew it was wrong to do so.

There was no one there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the talented sansafeels:
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156626957@N06/37996817036/in/dateposted/)


	2. Ten Pink Boxes

"Myrcella says this is the most successful toy drive she's ever seen. Is that right?"

Robb nodded, lugging another box into the church's Parish Hall from the semi in the side parking lot. He hated to admit he was out of breath while trying to keep up with the younger, more athletic Podrick Payne. True, he was only five years younger, but Podrick was able to work out most days in between his duties at the church and on the farm owned by the church. Robb decided then and there to increase his own time on the jogging. It was not about vanity, or course, but merely physical stanima. Pride was sinful. 

"It helps we have found such a great pastor in Father Robb," Myrcella chirped in, her long wavy blonde ponytail swishing back and forth from her efforts while she carried a smaller box. "He resonates with the community so well. Every drive he participates in always does wonderfully. Remember last year's canned goods drive for the city's food pantry? They still have stock left from that."

"Yeah, I think this time it helped he volunteered at the dunk booth. So many wanted to see Father Robb sink and swim. Especially Mrs. Karstark and Mrs. Bolton. I swear they donated half a toy store between the two of them."

Robb smiled a little at that, even though he was sure he wasn't supposed to. 

"Whatever anyone's reasons, I am sure all of them agree that it was for a good cause. We have so much to distribute to the hospital, women's shelter, homeless shelter, homes across the city. We might need more volunteers to go through and sort everything."

"You know I'll volunteer! I can call some of my friends to help, too." Myrcella swept into the church's Parish Hall, the opened double doors fastened in place. "I know Marg will come and help, but that's only because - well -"

Myrcella coughed a little while she sashayed into the massive storage room on the first floor to plunk down her box, scooting it with her toe against an already looming wall of boxes, the scraping noise of the cardboard echoing. They had so much it was quickly filling the entire room and the echoes were lessening. Thankfully there were a couple of vacant Sunday School rooms on the second floor.

"Myrcella, are you sure you want to carry the boxes in? I don't want you to get hurt." Robb looked at her worriedly. She was soft and delicate, and Robb winced at her huffing with manual labor.

"Oh stop. I am a lot stronger than I look." She rolled her eyes but then smiled. "But thanks for being concerned. Anyway, I can call Marg -"

"Yeah, Margaery is such a good Christian woman and cares about needy children." Pod laughed, waltzing in to place his box down. "We all know it's the man - candy. Shameful how she drools over a man of God."

Robb huffed in and dropped his box down on the opposite side. It was a pink box, large and sealed. There were nine more just like this one, already stacked; pale pink sealed cardboard boxes with TOYS AND BEARS delicately written in cursive on the sides of each one. A generous anonymous donor had them dropped them off and obviously no one took the time to open them. Robb should have done it himself, just for security purposes. In this day and age, no one could be too careful with the possibilities of an evil deed. Still, if a bomb had been planted it would have gone off by now.

He decided to pass over the comment about Myrcella's salacious friend. Just because he was a priest it didn't mean he was ignorant of an attractive woman's interest in him. He wasn't always a priest, after all. He only hoped Margaery would develop a true devotion to her faith instead of attending Mass in the hopes of catching the eye of an unattainable and uninterested servant of the Lord. He also wasn't blind to the fact that his collar meant a challenge and a fantasy to some women. He just chose to ignore it and forgave them for their sinful thoughts.

"Myrcella, did everyone check the boxes before loading? These pink ones are all still sealed."

"Oh, that? Well, the donation came in late, when everyone was cleaning up. I think I had Bronn just load them up. Ten boxes total. Such pretty boxes. They were dropped off by Theon's Truck Travels. Guess someone hired them to deliver. I guess we could see what's in them. I don't have a box cutter on me now, though. Pod?"

Robb watched as Podrick ran his fingers through his short, dark brown hair, a puzzled expression on his face while he rolled his chocolate brown eyes and shrugged, before he stuck his hand in his coat pocket and fished around.

"Nah. Shit. I mean - shucks. I must have left it at the Vet's Memorial Hall."

"It's fine. I'll just use a knife from the kitchen. I just want to make sure it's a correct donation." _No need to scare them by suggesting bombs or a biohazard_.

Without warning, Robb was accosted by Myrcella, who drew him into a bear hug. Sometimes it embarrassed him how demonstrative she was but he knew her heart was pure as well as her love. She was St. Joseph's church administrator and kept the clerical side of things running so smoothly for him. He loved her enthusiasm for the church and her love of God and charity works, not to mention she was always so cheerful, and it was infectious . Yes, she was beautiful, with her golden locks and bright green eyes, and she seemed even younger than her twenty-six years, but her inner beauty was what Robb appreciated. She was always a breath of fresh air and offered him consolation and inspiration when he felt as if he couldn't continue on this path, and she gave her insight and opinions when he asked about the sermons he prepared for the Sunday service. In many ways she has been his rock for the past two years and she was almost like a sister to him. A true sister. A decent sister. Pure in her love and in her actions.

"Father Robb, I want to thank you so much. You've made this church five times what it was before you came. Please don't leave us. I don't think I could find a better boss, you know."

Robb hugged her back before releasing her, smiling even as he caught Pod's raised eyebrows and smirk at the less-than-proper familiar act. Pod already thought secretary and priest were having a fling and always asked roundabout questions concerning their relationship. He even popped into the office several times unannounced, flinging the door open as if to catch them in the act or fornication on Myrcella's desk or something. Of course he was always disappointed. Or perhaps not? Robb was sure Pod would have asked her out by now. The young man seemed almost shy around her and unsure how to act.

"Don't thank me, Myrcella, thank all the donors. I'm thankful we live in such a generous city."

"You never give yourself any credit." She smiled, turning to leave for another box. "I don't know why."

"All credit goes to God. I am just trying to do His work."

"Well, you've brought more into the fold, that is for sure. I've never seen the attendance this huge since I can remember."

Robb said nothing to that, a little worried at being reminded. Increased members was a good thing, something the church strove for, but it has already been noticed by those higher up. It might result in a relocation so he could help to improve the numbers elsewhere.

"Father Robb?" Myrcella turned back around. "May I ask you something?"

"What is it, Myrcella?"

"Have you been sleeping well? I've noticed you have dark circles under your eyes. And you seem a little out of sorts lately."

Pod coughed at that and barely concealed his smile, glancing at him before resting his gaze on Myrcella. Robb knew he was waiting for her to leave so he could follow, to help with the rest of the boxes. The question startled him, caught him off guard. First of all, he was surprised she took notice, and second he didn't know how to answer honestly. What was he supposed to tell her? That a woman in the confessional disturbed him so much that he lay restless at night? That what little sleep he managed to get in the past two weeks was marred by dreams in which the past came to life? She did not want to know what the reason was for his sleep deprivation, and he did not want her to know.

"It's nothing, Myrcella, thank you though. I was just preoccupied with this charity event, hoping it would be a success. Sleep should come tonight." It wasn't a falsehood. He had been worried over it. Still, he would include this transgression in his prayers tonight before bed.

"Okay." She nodded to the door. "C'mon, Pod. Let's see who's left to help carry in the boxes. I think everyone left, besides Bronn. Too bad Deacon Tarly couldn't be here, but with his wife having a baby, I can understand. I can't wait to see the little guy."

"Deacon Sam ain't little," Pod joked, only to receive a playful slap on the shoulder from Myrcella."Ow!"

"Not everyone can have a body like you, Podrick." She smiled sweetly. "Speaking of which, put that body to good use and let's try to get the rest of those boxes in here. I think we are all tired and need some rest. It's been a long day."

They left together, leaving Robb to venture out and into the huge central hall, wide open and bare for wedding receptions and other social gatherings, then into the kitchen in the far back of the building. It was massive and far better stocked than his modest two-story house, located directly next to the church (originally he requested a basic studio apartment for his dwelling but everyone insisted he take the parish home). He supposed he didn't need much in the way of utensils and cookware since he was a terrible cook with just about everything except the basics. It mattered little as the ladies in the church were constantly stopping by with casseroles and pies and such. It was another reason he tried to keep up with his exercise regimen in the first place. It wasn't about pride or retaining his six-pack; it was about balancing the sinfully delicious food with some self-discipline and sacrifice.

Admittedly he was tired but with his constant movement and preoccupation with his duties, he hadn't realized just how fatigued he was. Even being dunked about a million times did nothing to phase him. Everyone seemed to be talking in echoes and not everything made complete sense. Two weeks. Two weeks and it really wasn't getting any better. Now, while rummaging around for and locating a small paring knife, felt as if he would drop right then and there if he would dare to stop. Maybe this time, once they were finished here, he would be able to take a hot shower at home and slip into a dreamless sleep.

_Please, please God, let me sleep a dreamless sleep_.

Robb practically ran back to the storage room and grabbed one of the pink boxes as Pod quickly dumped another one and left, Myrcella doing the same. Bronn was found and he was moving at a rapid pace; twice Pod's age and putting him to shame. Robb realized a competition was now on. It wasn't just over who could bring in the most boxes, but who looked better in front of the darling Myrcella. Even Bronn, caustic and jaded and old enough to be Myrcella's father, was trying to impress. Robb was glad he would never again have to worry over the complexities and absurdities of flirting and chasing.

He knelt down to open the first box. Nothing questionable. All fashion dolls and accessories. The second box contained hand-held electronics; a very expensive donation. One was full of books; he had known that one was particularly heavy. DVD's, more toys for small children... ten boxes from obviously a very wealthy donor. The generosity of strangers amazed him. Even in a time when most people were hard-pressed to provide for their own families, somehow they managed to do whatever they could for others.

The last box was a little smaller than the rest but was still considerably large. Grasping the paring knife, Robb eased it down the taped seam and bent back the flaps. More bears. Little brown bears with bows. The children at the hospital would love these. He moved the bears on top around to see what was underneath, and froze. 

Pink. A pink bear. Not just any bear. 

Instantly his hand trembled but he fished out the thing by its pink ear. New in the pink smile-faced printed carton, looking up at him with big blue eyes in all its pink glory, the pink smiley faces on its white belly flashing images in his head. Happy-Go-Lucky Bear. Happy with the protruding snout and hard plastic pink nose. He wanted to throw in back in the box in disgust, shove it down and the memories down with it. Instead he sat numbly on the floor, clutching the box, staring into the plastic eyes until he closed his own.

_He turned around to face her. Her mouth snapped shut and he heard her swallow from across the room. In her hands she held his gift to her, a rare and sought-after bear she had wanted for her collection. His note was off of it and she clutched it tightly, even more tightly as her horrified eyes took him in_ -

Robb's eye screwed shut, gripping the cardboard box as he held the bear to his lips. He shouldn't do this. He can't do this. But the visual flashed beneath his eyelids.

_Sansa. Staring at him with shocked, stunned blue eyes. Moving away from him_. 

_He realized she meant to back out and close the door so he sprinted over to her to slam it shut, his arms stretched out on either side of her head. It startled her and she dropped the bear to the floor, her hands reaching for his waist but thinking the better of it, her nails reaching back to scrape the door as she leaned against it instead. He could smell her lavender scent. And her horror_.

" _My eyes are up HERE, San. What's wrong, sis? See something you like _?"__

____

" _I - I just wanted to thank you, is all. You need -" Beautiful, melodic, petrified, she stumbled over her words_. 

____

" _Clothes? Yeah, I know. What do you need, San? A real man, right? One to make you stop playing with pink teddy bears. Tell me, how does Harry stack up to this? From your reaction, not very well_."

____

" _Shut up. You're - you're being stupid." Her voice was only a whisper. For a wild moment he thought she was going to touch him or kiss him but she pushed him away, her nails digging into his chest hair. It sent a wave of pleasure and pain through him and he stumbled back in shock, giving her time to fumble with the door, flinging it open and running out, pounding her feet down the stairs as fast as she could go. He knelt down to pick up the bear; as soon as he was dressed he would lay it back on the bed before he left. The plastic blue eyes sparkled up at him...much like his sister's did when he saw the want in them...or maybe he was seeing what he wanted to see_ -

____

Robb forgot to breathe. Or maybe his heart just stopped and sank for a moment. He could feel the sting of her nails and her breath tickling his neck, even now. Gasping like a man drowning, he gripped the corners of the box so hard the cardboard became crushed. He felt it then, tears stinging behind his eyelids. _Sansa._

____

_I am no longer that person. I have overcome it. Moved beyond it by the grace of God._

____

The shuffling of feet and voices brought him back to his senses and he quickly stood on his feet, still holding the bear, now yanked from the package. He hadn't realized what he had done and now the toy was no longer new in box. 

____

"Father Robb?" Myrcella's voice held abject concern. "Father Robb, are you okay? You look sick. Maybe you should go home and lie down. We can finish up here. Oh, what a cute little pink bear. Her tummy looks just like a little round pillow!"

____

Robb stepped back from her hand reaching out to touch the bear, recoiling from her. He didn't want her to make contact with him or the bear still clutched in his hands. 

"Robb!" Her shock made her slip, forgetting the proper addressing.

"You're - you're right, Myrcella. I am not feeling all too well. Will you and Pod and Bronn be alright to finish up here? I -"

__

_You need something more firm, Sansa. That isn't working for you for shit. Don't you know anything? No, you don't. That's why you have me. To make it better for you. Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what I am doing to you._

__

His stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat. He had a sudden urge to tear into the bear but instead held fast to it, his fingertips digging into the hard plastic nose. It had a hard plastic nose. _Oh God_.

_____ _

_____ _

"Yes, of course, we will be fine. Please, Father." Myrcella seemed a little hurt at his reaction to her, and he made a mental note to make it up to her but the thought was far away in his brain. There was no room for anything at this moment but one thing. 

How he managed to leave the Parish Hall, walk past the front of the church, enter his gate and walk up the path to his house, he had no idea. He didn't even know if he waved or spoke to anyone passing by, let alone if he locked the door behind him after he stumbled in, and he didn't really care. 

Frantically he started to to fumble in his coat pocket with his right hand for his lighter and cigarettes; he had been trying to quit ever since he started up ten years ago. Ten years ago he needed the soothing effect the nasty habit afforded him at a time where nothing comforted him. Nothing, until he truly found a calling with God. Found or forced? Did it matter now? A decade from where he used to be, yet -

 _Ten years_. 

_Ten pink boxes_.

__

_Sansa's pink bear_.

Looking down, he realized he still clutched the smiling bear in his hand.

Seconds later, it hurtled through the air, hitting the wall with such force the plastic nose tapped against the wall before it dropped to the floor.

Robb followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to sansafeels for this pic edit! :)
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156626957@N06/38176253446/in/dateposted/)  
> 


	3. A Small World After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Sansa...

"Oh fuck. _Fuck_ , goddamn!"

The grunts and exclamations and efforts from the man Sansa Stark rode were annoying at best, orgasm-killing at worst. She finally had been near a climax, quickening the snap of her hips, skillfully gyrating to her end, but she could feel it escaping her bit by bit with every heated curse the man uttered. To make matters worse, he was absorbed in his own pleasure and had stopped roughly strumming her clit to grip the pillow under his head of brown curls, smashed into the bed with his straining. Selfish asshole. 

"Shut the fuck up," she hissed, the only words she spoke through the whole thing.

She figured the dude was probably thinking he was being erotic or some shit, but he just looked ridiculous with his O face, which was more like a sneer while he licked his lips. Lips that were too thin, lips that had looked better pursed around his cigarette. He must have liked her telling him to be quiet because his cock shoved up tighter into her and he stopped moving with her, moaning. She felt nothing but the latex condom. Pissed off that he stopped, she clamped down on him and shoved her own hand down to rub at her clit, getting herself off without so much as a sigh. A weak orgasm was better than none, and she refused to have this result in a complete waste of time.

Within seconds she disengaged from him, noticing his cock was already softening. She afforded him another glance. He was buff and tanned and as limp as his dick was becoming. His brow was sweating and he looked as if he was going to settle into the hotel bed. Hell no. Not on her watch.

Tossing her long auburn hair over her shoulders, she reached down to snap off the condom, effectively bringing the man to a leaning, sitting position amid protests. 

"Why so worried about your cum catcher? I'm the one who should be concerned, and I can have these hotel sheets replaced. Get up, get dressed, get out," she growled. In moments she snaked off the bed to toss the offending rubber into the wastebasket.

"What?" I - I thought maybe -" the guy trailed off, staring at her, stunned, his looks of satisfaction completely gone.

"You thought wrong. We're done here. Unless you want me to notify your wife, or call hotel security, I suggest you leave now."

That did it. The pathetic excuse for a boy toy stumbled off the bed and grappled for his clothes. Sansa eyed him with a detached expression. She came upon him in the parking lot of this pathetic hotel, leaning against his sports car, hastily puffing on a cigarette and running a hand through his thick chocolate colored curls. He was far too beefy and tanned for what she was wanting but he had appealed to her with his look and actions, and she immediately struck up a flirting session. She figured he would be better than her fingers but she had ended up using her fingers anyway. So much for him being a remedy for her constant boredom. Well, almost constant anyway.

Sansa's latest conquest let out a curse under his breath as he shoved on his shoes and made his way to the door, fumbling with the handle and not looking back at her standing there stark naked, her hands on her hips, watching him make his ego-shattering exit. He may have been stumbling around and sweating but she was sedate, as if nothing from the past hour had happened at all. Her locks were barely mussed, her skin was cool. Even between her legs felt nearly dry and would have been had it not been for the lubricated condom and her climax. She felt untouched. Not even her fantasies while fucking him helped the dismal sex session. His voice was all wrong, his touch was all wrong. It made everything wrong and letting it cause her to involuntarily dip out of her fantasy made it that more difficult to orgasm. 

_Men_. Every last one of them had a fucking ego when she came on to them. It was so easy to use her beauty to entice them into her bed. All she had to do was bat her dark blue eyes and and paint a sensuous smile on her pouting lips, and they all fell so willingly. She used her looks to her advantage, but it mostly turned out to be to her detriment. None of them were worth all they swaggered to be. Even her most recent boyfriend Aegon had been lacking. She didn't know why she had put up with him for so long, except he was handsome and rich and her parents approved. At twenty-seven and still unmarried, she was feeling the desperation of her mother but shrugged it off. Her mother's opinions mattered little to her, less than even her father's. One of the reasons she was in Moletown was to get out from underneath all the bullshit in Winterfell. Just last night she dumped Aegon over the phone and felt just as much over it as she did for her fuck boi that just left.

Nothing.

Sansa waltzed over to the desk shoved up against the wall and swiped up her phone before plunking down on the bed stark naked, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she laid against the pillows. The sheets smelled like sweaty man. Maybe they should have fucked on the chair or the settee at the foot of the bed. Now she would have to call the hotel front desk and request new bedding. Tossing her phone onto the comforter she deftly reached over to swipe up the receiver off the bolted down phone on the nightstand. It rang directly to the desk. 

"Hi, this is Sansa Stark, room one fourteen. Could I please have fresh linens brought up? Oh, and also, the bathtub isn't working. I mean, I turn on the thingy for the bath and no water is coming out. Shower works, but I wanted to take a bath."

Assured that someone would be sent up in or around an hour, she hung up. For a moment she reflected on the silence in her room. For so many years she was used to the hustle and bustle of her life. She never had a dull or quiet moment and Winterfell was always such a busy, populated city. She had been the life of the party and was constantly on the go. Moletown was the opposite. A small cow town which held only one major hotel and it was less than stellar one, and it was deathly quiet. She hated the quiet, which seemed to muddle her thoughts and lead them astray at the same time.

Sighing, she reached over to grab and check her phone. No new calls. Only one message, a text from Aegon which she deleted unread. It was to be expected, since she ended their relationship so abruptly, but he had no place in her life going forward. She had been slowly cutting out friends and family out of her life for the past year or two, spending less and less time with all of them, including Aegon; preferring the company of strangers in clubs and bars. It was easier that way. 

Everything was easier when you could disconnect emotionally.

She tapped her screen to move to her picture files.

_Robb_.

She had followed him the other day when she was lucky enough to see him leave the church with some blonde. She had done some research and knew the young woman had to be the church's secretary. It was around lunchtime, and sure enough they had ended up downtown at a deli restaurant. The weather had been warm for a September day and they had taken their lunch outside on the patio. Sansa managed to snap pics discreetly while walking past, her hair tucked under her hat. It was silly, really. She doubted Robb would recognize her. She had been a gawky, gangling girl all of seventeen when he last laid eyes on her; still developing, so impressionable, so shy and unsure of herself. 

She was no longer that girl, thank God.

Sansa allowed a finger to lightly caress the image. He, too, had matured from who he was as she last remembered him: the twenty-year old cocky college kid. His hair seemed more brown than red, a visible grey streak in his soft wavy curls, his face sporting a beard where he had always been clean-shaven. His smile was frozen on her screen as he looked at his lovely secretary, lines etched around his mouth and eyes. His black shirt and priest collar stood out; mocking her, taunting her. Father Robb Stark. Beloved Priest of St. Joseph's Catholic Church. The familiar sting of hate and resentment swelled up inside her, instant and overwhelming, even as her index finger slowly traced his outline.

Suddenly she was aware of the stink of cologne and man heat all over body. The coolness and calm gave way to a heated, prickly sensation on her skin. The revulsion overwhelmed her as she tossed her phone aside and sprang from the bed. She needed a shower. A bath was preferable but because of the faucet issues, a shower had to suffice.

Moments of rummaging in the cheap hotel dresser produced her yoga pants and tank top. She moved to stalk off to the bathroom but turned instead to flip open her suitcase, shoving items around until she found what she wanted: a large, sapphire colored washcloth; thick and tufted, obviously worn.

The first few moments underneath the shower's stream felt good, splashing over her body. She had her own bath soap, much better than the cheap generic hotel brand that never seemed to make her feel clean, and she lathered up her washcloth, scrubbing the disappointment and disgust off of her.

The water wasn't hot enough.

The hot water knob creaked in protest as Sansa turned it all the way to the right, instant near-scalding water assaulting her pale flesh. This was more like it. She closed her eyes and gasped, enjoying the feel of washing that selfish dick off her skin and down the drain. It was more of a turn-on than anything he had given her. For a moment she fluttered her eyes open to watch the steam coiling up and over the frosted sliding glass door. She bunched up the rag in her hand, clenching it in a death-grip.

_Steam. The water was so hot the bathroom mirror had fogged up instantly._

Sansa moved to push herself up against the side wall of the shower, out of the direct stream, squeezing her eyes shut again. Her legs worked of their own volition, spreading slightly to accommodate the coarse rag she shoved between them. Her heart beat fast and her blood quickened as her wrist ached, feeling bruises that were mere ghosts in her head as she started scrubbing. Ridding herself of his scent where it disgusted her the most. Friction where she needed it the most.

_The grip was merciless. She thought her wrist was breaking but she refused to cry out. Shes stood naked and scared and completely exposed as she eyed him frantically using liquid soap to lather up the wash rag, his hand turning pink from the heat. It was clumsy and awkward to work with one hand but he did, and she watched in disbelief, knowing what his intentions were. She hit him with her free fist but it was like striking him with her pillow. It had no effect and she started cursing but he silenced her when he shoved the cloth between her legs and started furiously scrubbing. She had whimpered at the intense heat_ -

Throwing her head back against the tile, Sansa worked rapidly, her breath coming in short gasps. Her whole body tensed as she felt the tingle on her clit. Faster. Faster now, quickly building up to a climax. The tightening in her belly intensified and she knew she was not going to take long. Certainly not an hour. There was no dissipation of feeling with this. Somewhere in her mind she wanted to resist but she bit her lip, knowing full well it would go as it always did. Her free hand flew up to twist into her hair, yanking roughly downwards.

" _Do you think I want to smell some stupid little shit's greasy fingers on your cunt_ ?"

Sansa turned her face to the side to press into the tile, pulling at her wet strands even harder.

" _You want to cum like this, don't you?" A short cruel laugh. She heard the surprise underneath the anger. She refused to answer, ashamed, and he released his grip on her wrist only to pull on her hair. Pull her to him. Push her closer into his body while the washcloth savagely teased her, cleansed her. It was wrong. So wrong. She had to get away. This was a stranger. This wasn't him. She could feel the rage and disgust rolling off of him in heated waves. This was a stranger. A stranger _-__

____

"Yes," she whispered into the shower, for no one to hear. No one to listen and no one to stop her from giving her body what it needed. It betrayed her every time and she came hard, her legs wavering as she cried out, climaxing onto a piece of cloth more intensely than she did with her make-do partner. Weakened, satisfied with her release, she slid down to the floor, trying to catch her breath while clutching the washcloth.

____

Then the laughter came, echoing around her. Mocking, taunting. Was it her own?

____

The roaring in her ears. It sounded more like pounding against her temples, dull in the water stream now turning cold. How long has she been sitting here, lost in the aftermath? Did hotel showers stay hot forever?

____

The pounding turned into knocking. Insistent, sharp.

____

"Hello? Sansa Stark, are you in there? Maintenance. I can come back if -"

____

Real. Reality. Maintenance.

____

Sansa's eyes flew open as she scrambled to her feet to shakily turn off the shower before throwing down the rag and slamming back the shower door to grab at the plush bathrobe hanging on the back of the door.

____

"Yes. Yes, it's okay. Just a minute, please." She hastily knotted her wet hair up in twisted knot and secured the robe before cracking the door open cautiously. The man stepped back and hung his head, a tool box in one hand and his other raised in a hesitant greeting. An average sized man, around her age, with short, dark brown hair and big brown eyes. His full cheeks stood out in contrast to his barely-there facial hair and immediately her eyes took in his biceps underneath the well-worn white shirt with the hotel logo on the right side. Cute. Boyish. And proper, from the way he took two more steps back to place more than an arm's length distance between them while fixating on her face. For some reason his refusal to take in her wet body molded into the thin robe made her feel more vulnerable than if he had lustily raked his gaze over her entire form.

____

It annoyed her.

____

"Ah, I'm here to fix the bath faucet, but I can come back -" His eyes averted to his feet.

____

"No, no need. Obviously I settled for the shower." Sansa stepped aside. "It's all yours."

____

"Thank you... Miss Stark?" His tone was questioning and a bit odd.

____

"Yes, it's Miss." She couldn't help but form a small smile, thinking he was sussing out her martial status. "You can call me Sansa."

____

"Uh, thanks, yeah, Sansa. I'm Podrick. Podrick Payne." He offered a nervous grin and rushed past her into the bathroom while she appreciated his backside filling out his uniform pants nicely. This hotel might be the only one in town but it was high on the decorum and presentable list. She watched, leaning in the doorway, as he knelt down to inspect the knobs before rooting around in his tool box.

____

"So - uh, Stark?" He talked over the tinkering and clanking of his task. "I know a Stark. Quite well, actually. We're friends, of sorts. Are you related to a Robb Stark? Father Robb Stark? He's the priest at Saint Joseph's here in Moletown. I work on a farm owned by his church. This is my part-time gig for extra cash."

____

Sansa bit her lip in sudden shock and dismay, also experiencing a dull hurt somewhere deep down inside. She had thought about checking in using her mother's maiden name for this very reason. She hadn't wanted to be found out, but the credit card and driver's license was of course in her own name. She had gone two weeks without any questions or curiosities and she had a false sense of security and now her further plans were about to be destroyed. She wanted to deny it but she instantly knew there was no choice. If this man knew Robb he was sure to bring up seeing a woman called Sansa Stark who looked very much like him. She gritted her teeth. Of course Robb wouldn't mention her to a friend. Why would he?

____

"Yes, actually I do know Robb." His name sounded so foreign on her tongue and she almost spat it out. It tasted bitter. Sweet. Bittersweet.

____

"Oh, small world then. Unless you've come to town to see him? Kind of would make sense and all." Podrick's voice was warm, friendly as he made short work of his project at hand. "Seems this was a pretty quick fix." He turned the knob to test and water streamed out, cold and noisy, before he reversed his action, turning to look at her.

____

"I just got into town yesterday," she lied. "I was trying to make myself at home before I called him." Another lie. She didn't even have his phone number.

____

"Well tomorrow's Sunday, there will be Mass in the morning. Usually after that we go out for a lunch and all. Then the rest of the day is free for Father Robb. It's his only time of rest, on Sunday afternoons." He stood up and smiled. "You look a lot like him, you know. Are you a cousin or something?"

____

"No. Sister." She hissed the word out while trying to paint a sweet smile on her face. Podrick raised his eyebrows and her heart would have ached if it were not so dead. He was surprised.

____

"Father Robb has two sisters? I - I didn't know -"

____

"Yes, well, Arya is closer to Robb than I." Lies always came so easily to her now. "I've come out this way for a change of pace. Trying to figure out where to relocate and start a new chapter of my life. I thought it would be nice to visit Robb along the way, since I haven't seen him for...years. I know he has done...well for himself, all things considered."

____

"He has." Podrick gestured to the sink and Sansa shrugged her indifference. He washed his hands and dried them thoroughly while checking his reflection for a moment before turning and extending his hand. "It is good to meet you, Sansa. I am sure Father Robb will be happy to see you."

____

Sansa said nothing. She seriously doubted Robb would be jumping for joy. It didn't matter if he hated her on sight. She was up for the challenge and she would win in the end, just as she always had overcome any obstacle in her way. She was beautiful, strong, and smart, with nerves of steel and a hunger so sharp it sliced through any hesitations she might have. She was no longer that meek, weak, simpering little fool that everyone - including Robb - took advantage of and used for their own whims. No, Robb would not be happy to see her and she simply didn't give a damn about it. Rather, she preferred it.

____

Smiling, she snaked her hand into Podrick's for a shake but it was less a shake and more of a hold. His hand was warm and solid and kind. He pulled away before she did and she shivered. Perhaps if he had been in the place of her curly - haired one-fuck the results would have been much more satisfying, if the feeling of his hand on hers was anything to go by. His eyes were warm and Sansa could sense the goodness in him. Pure. Honest. Cute like a puppy dog. 

____

"Well, you're all set here." Podrick coughed and ran fingers through his thick, short hair before picking up his tool box. "If there is anything else you need, please don't hesitate to call the desk."

____

"Of course. Thank you, Podrick." Her tone lowered seductively as he awkwardly walked out of the bathroom and through the room. "Now I can enjoy a hot, relaxing bubble bath next time."

____

"Sure. Yes, yes you can. Have a lovely evening, Miss Stark." She didn't miss the slight stammering. _How sweet_.

____

"Sansa, please."

____

"Sansa." 

____

He slipped out of the room and Sansa sighed, her bare feet rooted to the clean but aged carpet. Her mind shot out a thought faster than lighting striking. What if Podrick told Robb first about seeing her? She did not want to destroy the element of surprise, did not want to miss his unrehearsed reaction at seeing her for the first time in a decade. True, her confession at the church and her gifts, notably the pink bear, were done to bring forth memories, stir up his dirty little guilty conscience, but thinking and seeing were two different monsters. Damn these small towns, so incestuous with everyone knowing everyone -

____

As fast as she could go she was out the door and into the hall, ready to take the elevator when she heard the clanking and booted footsteps on the stairwell. Scurrying down the carpeted stairs she called out to him and he stopped to turn back, his face tilted up. An eyebrow darted up as she reached one step above him. 

____

"I'm sorry, Sansa? Did I forget something?"

____

"No. _I_ did." Without warning she grabbed at the back of his neck to pull his face to her and kissed him fiercely, wantonly, and she felt his shock with the tension in his whole body as he dropped his tool box, the clatter echoing in the empty stairwell until it reached the next landing. His lips seem to want to pull back from hers at first but then he was matching her, his mouth rough, lips slightly chapped. His breath held a faint scent of beef jerky that Sansa didn't mind too much as her tongue made its way over his. He was a good kisser, chasing her lips and tongue with a thoughtfulness even as her assault had caught him off guard. His hands remained respectful, opting to clutch the railing behind him rather than touch her somewhere untoward. 

____

A gentleman, even as he was getting turned on by kissing a nearly naked woman in an abandoned stairwell. It only increased Sansa's desire and she moaned into him, her nails scraping down his neck and chest. She pushed up against him and smiled through their kisses; he was becoming aroused pretty damn fast. Still he refused to touch her and it was frustrating. She knew of no man that would pass up this opportunity. She wondered what his tongue could do between her legs and she felt her own arousal. Determined, she raked her nails down to his belt buckle, almost too skillfully undoing it. He didn't stop kissing her but it caused him to dart an arm out to stay her hand.

____

"No." He breathed it into her mouth, so deep and hot and smoky that it could have been a yes. She kissed him hard, taking away his ability to speak.

____

_No from you always mean yes, doesn't it? You love playing this little game _.__

____

______ _ _

____

Furiously she redoubled her efforts, struggling against his hands. Both of them now were resisting her and it angered her. Digging her nails into his flesh, she brought his hand down between her legs, the robe easily parting for quick access. Instinctively he cupped her mound, shaved bare, and she knew he could feel the wetness of her when he groaned into her mouth and his fingers grazed her clit. They felt thick and hot and she thought wildly that even just one finger dipping inside would be enough. She moved her legs a little further apart in a silent entreaty and tightened her grip on his wrist. But he suddenly yanked it away and pushed her from him.

____

______ _ _

____

_He is stronger. He was always stronger. It never mattered. He always won_. 

____

______ _ _

____

"I - I'm sorry." Podrick was struggling for words and breath. "Um -" His tongue flicked over his lips. "I - just - you're -"

____

______ _ _

____

"It's fine. Really. I don't know what came over me." She was not ashamed. She left shame behind a long time ago. "It won't happen again."

____

______ _ _

____

"Um, no, I mean. It's not - ah. I can't think." He smiled then, his cheeks puffing up into two round, pinchable apples. It was an infectious smile and Sansa followed suit.

____

______ _ _

____

"Um, your robe." His dark eyes sparkled almost wickedly before he looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. 

____

______ _ _

____

"Sorry." She giggled a little before wrapping the robe tighter around her and tying it. 

____

______ _ _

____

"Um. Well, you know. Maybe since you're in town for a while. I don't know. So maybe I could take you out and show you around? I mean it's not a very big place and all but there are a few interesting spots. Restaurants -"

____

______ _ _

____

"Like a date?" She couldn't remember the last time she went on a real date. Aegon never really took her anywhere for fun. Most guys just fucked and left. Or she left them.

____

______ _ _

____

"Uh, yeah. I mean, if you want?" He fumbled around, fastening his belt buckle, his eye averted. She could see the outline of his erection straining against the fabric.

____

______ _ _

____

"I think I would like that, Podrick." Just because she was on a mission, it didn't mean she could have some fun along the way. "Maybe we can work something out."

____

______ _ _

____

Podrick whipped his phone from his back pocket and typed in her number, repeating it back to make sure it was correct. He was almost boyish, his grin wide and his stance unassuming. There was no swagger in Podrick Payne. It was a nice change of pace. Impulsively she kissed his cheek before turning away and sprinting back up the steps to her room, waiting for his protest but was met with silence. She knew he was watching her.

____

______ _ _

____

"Tell the desk they forgot my sheets," she called down before slamming the stairwell door shut and running back into her room.

____

______ _ _

____

Sansa flitted over to the closet to pull out her most modest suit, a pretty light blush color with a sensible skirt to her knees. It wasn't a fall color but it was her favorite when paired with her delicate lace blouse. A matching hat and high heels completed the outfit. It was a perfect look for a respectable churchgoer. Well, she might burst into flames when she walked in but it would be worth it in her last moments to see the look on Robb's face. This wasn't the way she intended for things to go, but then again perhaps Podrick Payne was a Godsend? Her newly formed idea was perfect. 

____

______ _ _

____

A giggle emitted from her again. It was silly, thinking God would punish her for what she was about to do.

____

______ _ _

____

She stopped believing in any God a long time ago.

____

______ _ _

____


	4. Lavender Mirages

"Body of Christ."

"Amen."

Robb placed the wafer on the tongue of the next parishioner as Deacon Sam rustled next to him, assisting. There were so many in the congregation now, with nary a pew left empty. It filled Robb with a sense of pride, even though he knew pride was supposed to be sinful, but today it also bothered him. So many people waiting to receive the Eucharist extended Mass beyond the normal time. When he started in this church two years ago, he was quick to know everyone's names and backstories. Now, there were so many new faces even he was struggling. The receiving line after the service was always interesting. His mentor, Father Jorah Mormont, handled a church far more large than this one and managed to remember every single person. Then again, today was especially daunting, considering his lack of sleep, but Robb smiled his fatherly smile down on each parishioner as they moved forward, one at a time, to accept the body of Christ. 

Deacon Sam was a Godsend. He took over delivering the sermon and leading in the hymns while Robb stoically remained seated. He was the embodiment of the perfect listener yet his thoughts scattered through the throbbing of his intense headache. So easily he could have plead sickness but to do so would have been a lie and also a disservice to everyone in the congregation. All he wanted to do was to get through Mass and go back to bed. He wondered if he could discreetly ask Podrick to find him some sedatives and explain his predicament, then realized that was selfish and completely wrong. Just because Podrick did some time for selling prescription drugs, it did not mean the man had not reformed.

"Body of Christ."

"Amen."

The line was dwindling. Robb's voice became monotone and he wavered a little as his temples pounded. Through his haze he imagined he could smell sweet lavender through the various old lady perfumes. His exhausted mind working overtime, never letting him rest. He tried to ignore how much he craved the scent.

"Body of Christ."

He held the wafter up before the bowed head, noticing the feminine, smart hat down over the woman's eyes. The lavender scent was strong now, unmistakably real as the lady in her blush-colored suit tilted her head only slightly up to receive, her pale pink lips parting slowly and her tongue slowly presenting itself. Robb had been more concentrated on placing the wafer on her tongue but as he did so, wetness flicked out to skim around his index finger before withdrawing, taking in the wafer to dissolve. The shock coursed through his body as he swayed slightly as he willed the feeling below his waist to stay dormant. It wasn't the first time he had accidentally made contact with a parishioner - Margaery Tyrell always tried her best to try something - but this was different. It felt licentious, not embarrassing.

She raised her head then, a small smile forming and he found himself staring into blue eyes that matched his own. Instantly the world and the identity he had so carefully built for himself over the past decade came crashing down around him. It was if he could feel the demons clawing at him already, dragging him down to Hell; he could feel the sting of his sister's nails raking down his back, leaving scars that both could still be seen and were tucked away deep inside his heart.

_Sansa_.

He meant to say something, anything; maybe this woman before him was not his sister. Maybe he was hallucinating, the lack of sleep causing him to imagine her, this grown woman with her auburn hair skimmed sharply back in a low bun under her hat, her modest suit complimenting her curvaceous, adult figure. It was someone who looked like Sansa, that was all, just a delusional lavender mirage in his sickened mind. He begged for this to not be happening even as he wanted to take her in his arms and ask her why -

"Amen, _brother_."

Silky smooth and throaty, striking right at his heart. His vision blurred before he closed his eyes completely, feeling her hitting him, pushing him, crying and screaming at him.

" _You're my brother, Robb! My brother! How could you? How could you? I hate you, I hate you. I hope you die! I hope you die. I never want to see your face again_ -"

"Father?" Sam stopped his distribution and Robb felt a strong hand grasping him, steadying him. "Father Robb, are you all right? Do you need to sit - "

Robb opened his eyes slowly. The woman who could be his sister was walking away so casually back to her seat, and the the next parishioner was Podrick, his brown eyes filled with worry.

"Father Robb, let Deacon Sam take over. I'm sure everyone understands and Mass is almost done. You haven't been sleeping well and it's catching up to you." It was all Robb could do to nod dumbly and move away from his place while parishioners around him murmured in agreement. "Sansa would have called you but she wanted to surprise you instead." Pod stammered around with his words a bit, no doubt confused at Sansa walking away.

_Sansa_.

Robb blindly left the sanctuary, somehow reaching the sacristy where he began stripping off his chasuble and alb. Podrick had been fast behind him to gather up the vestments Robb usually reverently, slowly removed. Down to his simple black shirt and pants, Robb sank down onto the cushioned bench next to the closet. His chest felt tight.

"How did you know she was my sister?" His voice sounded so natural even when his heart was beating madly.

"Oh, she is staying at the hotel. I had to fix her bathtub faucets. Said she just got into town and was planning on meeting up with you."

The clinking of hangers on the metal rod seemed like cymbals up against his ears.

"You never mentioned Sansa before. Well, not that I remember. I know you've shown me pics of Arya and Bran and Rickon, but I don't think I've seen any of Sansa. I would have remembered that. She really is beautiful, Robb. If I were her brother I'd be busy beating down all the guys that made a pass at her."

_Harry Harding. He made sure that little conceited shit never touched her again. Three broken fingers on both hands and a bloody mouth. He'd think twice before kissing her or sticking his fingers in her sweet little cunt_ -

A knock at the door made him jump. Podrick took charge and opened it and Myrcella, dressed in a simple green dress, her blonde hair curled down around her shoulders, stepped cautiously. From behind her, Sansa quietly waltzed in, hat in her hand. Her auburn hair seemed to shine under the lighting, her skin pale and makeup flawless. Robb dragged his eyes away from the apparently concerned look on her lovely face but his sight drifted down to her breasts -so much more full than he remembered - and then he dropped lower, taking in her hips and shapely long legs before settling on her narrow, delicate feet. He wondered if she had painted toenails. _She had liked red_ -

"Father Robb, are you okay?" Myrcella spoke first, all abject concern. "Your sister pulled me aside and asked to see you. She's worried. We want to make sure -"

"I'm _fine_ , Myrcella." It bit out more harsh than he realized and he softened his tone. "It - it is - good to see you, Sansa." Her name, not spoken in years, seemed like poison on his tongue. _Or was it more like wine_ ?

"Oh, Robb, I'm _so_ sorry, I should have called you first." He could scarce believe it when she advanced towards him, arms open. "I've missed you."

Robb prayed for strength and for the ability not to cringe as he stood to accept her embrace. He didn't want to touch her. Maybe if he didn't touch her she wasn't real. Under Pod and Myrcella's expectant gaze he had no choice, so he tried to steel himself from recoiling. From shouting at her. From dropping to his knees and crying into the hem of her skirt;from either regret or fear or despair, he did not know which.

His arms reached out and she rushed into them, pressing herself up against him and flinging her arms around his waist, her head burrowing into his upper chest. Tentatively he hugged her back as if she were made of glass. His mind tried to leave his body while reciting a passage from the Bible in his head but all he heard was white noise and he still felt - 

Pushing her away, he forced a smile.

"It's good to see you Sansa."

"It's been so long since we've seen each other. I've been wanting to explore the West Coast, so I thought I would stop by. We have so much catching up to do, don't we?"

"Father Robb, I was talking to Pod before Mass. He said Sansa is stuck in that miserable hotel," interjected Myrcella. "I have a great idea! Why not let Sansa stay in the guest room in your home?" Robb wasn't sure he was hearing her correctly as Myrcella completely disregarded him. "Sansa, Robb's home is the church Parish home, right next to the church. It's a lovely house. Three bedrooms upstairs, and of course Father Robb is the only occupant. It would be much more comfortable than that hotel, and it would give you a wonderful chance to catch up."

Robb loved Myrcella. She was one of his closest friends and confidants and she kept the church's office running smoothly. Everyone adored her and she had a good heart, but at that moment he felt like strangling her. He shouted _no, no_! in his head but it died in his throat. Refusing to look at Sansa, he instead looked at Myrcella, who was beaming. So proud of herself for her perfect idea. Well, hopefully Sansa would say no. Like she said, she was passing through. Maybe he would only have to suffer an evening of uncomfortable chatting. Why now? Why after ten long years? What was out West that she was so interested in? A job? _A man_ ?

"Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea!" Sansa exclaimed as Robb's heart sank, even as a bitter resentment emerged. She had wanted him out of her life forever and he made sure he was. Now she is here, pretending all that had happened between them never took place? That she was just the typical sister casually visiting her brother? Who really was this woman anyway? Her voice was huskier than he remembered, her body more curvy than he recalled, her movements more sensuous and sure. This was not his seventeen year old sister.

He looked at her, finally meeting her stare. She appeared to have a genuine smile on her face, and she seemed polite and sweet, maybe a little like the Sansa he grew up with. So, she had only been in town a short while? Then that wasn't her at confession, just a figment of his guilty imagination? Those pink boxes, was it just a coincidence with that bear? After all, those bears were now popular again...

"Um." Three sets of eyes were looking at him. Waiting. "Sure, Sansa." He could tolerate her spending a night or two. Maybe, by her warm and friendly demeanor, she was willing to put everything in the past aside and make peace. Maybe that is what her little stop was all about? Time to forgive and be forgiven, time to lay it all to rest and move on. Remember the good times and forget the bad. The good times. His heartbeat quickened and he realized his headache and lethargy were gone. Somehow, he felt alive.

"Thank you, Robb, that is so very sweet of you." She turned towards Myrcella. "I'm sure you probably agree, isn't Robb the sweetest ever? All the girls swooned over him back in the day."

"He's the best boss I could ever have," Myrcella beamed. 

"Well, Sansa, I can help with your bags from the hotel, free of charge," joked Pod as he shut the closet. "Maybe order you two some carryout from a local diner, so you can catch up without having to worry about dinner. Father Robb, your schedule is free, right?"

Robb could only nod, helpless as a rabbit caught in a snare. Perhaps this was a test from above. It was the most cruel test if it ever was one as his hopes started to soar. Sansa was standing there, charming Pod and Myrcella about some silly story of him when he was younger to prove just how sweet he always has been. She looked good and sincere and kind, gracious and pleasing. Like he remembered her. 

_You're so sweet, sister. So sweet and innocent and you have everyone fooled. Everyone but me. I know you. I know what you really are. You can't deny it and you can't hide it from me, can you? You don't want to hide it from me. You just want me to force it out of you_ -

Robb felt sick, but smiled as he listened to Sansa's little peals of laughter. Myrcella and Podrick seemed quite taken with her. Of course. Sansa could charm the very Devil with her perfect words.

Suddenly he was reminded of a verse as he looked at her and she met his eyes again. He thought he could see something more than sisterly affection there and he prayed he was wrong, even as he was praying for his own soul.

_Matthew 7:15: Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in an update! With the holidays and writer's block due to having to think of a new pivotal in-the-past scene as to how Robbsa's relationship came to its current state, it took awhile. I know this was short but I at least wanted the reunion to happen. Thanks!


	5. Caramel Cappuccino For One

The click of the front door lock brought a small sigh of relief from Sansa, so quiet and discreet she was sure Robb couldn't hear it as the last of the company disappeared into the night. It was as if all the pretense and tension left her body and her whole frame relaxed, her facade washing away. Her mouth hurt from the fake smiles her throat burned from the forced laughter and false, pretty words she spoke to charm her audience. She deserved an Academy Award for her performance.

All she wanted was to evangle Robb alone and she had to contend with everyone and their mother - and grandmother - ever since Mass ended. Normally she would love to be the center of attention but circumstances required her to appease Robb's flock; people who loved and adored him and thought so much of their Priest. It was sickening, really, how some of the more notable residents in the community gathered around her as if she were the main attraction in a circus freak show, wanting to know every minor detail of her life and Robb's childhood. All afternoon and well into the late evening, it was one massive social call and of course she played the gracious visitor to the hilt. From the old lady Manderly to the pretty Myrcella, she made sure the first impression on them all was a memorable and favorable one. Even the old bats were so taken with her that they invited her to their Prayer Shawl meeting, held on Monday nights. Thankfully she was able to decline with a humble thanks, with the excuse that Podrick had already offered to show her around the town tomorrow. She made sure to glance a Robb when she said that to gauge his reaction but he remained impassive. As if he didn't hear. Or he just didn't care.

Sansa took a special interest in Myrcella Baratheon and her best friend Margaery Tyrell. Even though she made sure to give everyone her seemingly divided attention, she focused on the two friends. From one predatory female to another she recognized Margaery's barely concealed lust for her brother. It was all over her body language. The way she flipped her long chocolate locks and tried to always sit near Robb, how she giggled like a girl at the stories she and Robb had shared about their childhood, the woman was as transparent as a windowpane. Overly sexual and beautiful, she registered on Sansa's radar but as she watched Robb's reactions to her, she disregarded her as any real threat. Still, making nice with the sultry Margaery might have some benefits, as she was Myrcella's best friend and could possibly provide her with some information on the goody-two-shoes.

Sweet, blonde, and entirely too adoring Myrcella instantly had Sansa on the alert. It was painfully obvious Robb was fond of her, but just how fond he really was, she did not know. Myrcella... or "Cella" as everyone called her, seemed to return his affection and esteem and it bothered Sansa instantly. For a moment she was grateful to her for giving her the godsend opportunity to stay in the same house as Robb - therefore making her plans easier - but that dissipated when she noticed all of Robb's smiles were for Myrcella; smiles that faded when he looked at her and darted his eyes away. It made Sansa want to claw out those big green eyes out of that pretty face but she hid her emotions well and set out to charm her new rival instead. She needed Robb's biggest fan on her side.

She needed them all, really.

"I suppose you want to get some sleep." 

Robb's voice floated over to her and she glanced up at him. He was leaning up against the archway to the living room but avoided her eyes. He had changed once they came back from a lunch at a nearby restaurant and he stood in civilian clothes; a simple black button-down shirt and jeans. From the dim lighting in the living room and the distance he almost looked as she had remembered him the last time she had laid eyes on him. Only now there was a grey streak in his hair and he sported facial hair. Those words were the first he had spoken to her directly without anyone around and it felt bizarre. As if he were a stranger.

"Yes, it has been a long day," she allowed, smiling her most innocent smile, which was lost on Robb as he looked down at the floor. "I believe I was introduced to your whole congregation."

"They all seem quite taken with you." He hesitantly walked into the room and slowly sat down in the chair farthest away from her. "I don't think they could get enough of all the embarrassing stories you told about when we were kids." His voice was kind but Sansa noticed the strain in it. 

"Yes, they were particularly amused at the one where I went through a phase of not wanting to brush my teeth and you took such drastic measures by chasing me down and sitting on me while you brushed my teeth." She let out a small laugh. "I guess I made it better by saying I owe you my pearly whites."

"I thought the one where I caught my creation on fire while trying to bake you a lemon cake for your ninth birthday was better."

"Oh, I have so many stories to tell, really." His eyes met hers at that comment and she saw him swallow before he looked away, seemingly concentrating on the crucifix and Lord's Prayer above the TV. "But I guess you are right, I am very tired. Thank you for the guest room. I don't want to impose, though."

"It is actually past my own bedtime. Tomorrow is my day to visit shut-ins and then attend patients' spiritual needs at the hospital. I have an early start and late night -"

"Oh. I was hoping we could catch up -"

"Being a Priest is more than just Sunday services. I cannot abandon my obligations."

"I understand." _She didn't_. 

Silence fell. It was thick and uncomfortable but Sansa was determined. She didn't come all the way out here to sit and say nothing or do nothing. She stood up gracefully, tossing her long red hair behind her shoulders. She was dressed modestly in a long sleeved crewneck top and a pair of dark jeans. Normally she dressed to kill even if it was a casual affair but she needed to be simple. Unassuming. Modest.

"Robb, I've missed you. I came here to make amends. You are still my brother and that means something. I -"

"I know, Sansa," he murmured lightly. "We are both tired and could use the rest. We can talk in the morning before I leave, yes?"

"Of course." Another forced smile to hide her instant resentment at being interrupted and gently dismissed.

Robb stood and Sansa rushed over to embrace him. She felt the tension in his body just like she did in the sacristy but ignored it to press against him. She felt his muscles and his heart hammering against his chest as he gingerly wrapped his arms around her. She smirked. He was not so aloof after all.

Giving him the only mercy she would be allowing, she pulled away.

"Thank you, Robb. I'll see you in the morning."

Sansa didn't wait for a reply and refused to look at him as she made her way up the the staircase. Something had sparked in her just by hugging him; an odd mixture of hatred and longing and violence and desire. She nearly ran into the guest room and shut the door quietly. It was a small second bedroom separated from Robb's room by a bathroom and linen closet. There was another smaller room to the right but the door was shut and Sansa didn't care to investigate it. She wasn't here for the ambiance. She was here for revenge.

It took her no time at all to change into her nightclothes: a simple oversized Myrtle Beach t-shirt that reached almost to her knees. Packed in the bottom of her suitcase were her sexy lingerie choices. Definitely not appropriate for spending the night in her brother's - or, rather, the church's - house. Well, not yet anyway.

She nestled in under the simple cream colored comforter in the double bed. It was smaller than she was used to and it creaked a little with the slotted wooden headboard and foot board. The room was sparse, with a small dresser with mirror, nightstand, and a chair shoved in the corner. The closet had annoying sliding doors and there was no private bath. The hardwood floors were polished with cream rugs and pictures of Saints and Mary hung on the wall. Sansa could do without the religious artifacts but the walls could be saturated with silent saintly accusatory eyes; it didn't matter. The fucking Pope could be standing in her room and she would not be deterred from her purpose.

It was deathly quiet and it wasn't long before she heard Robb's footsteps. For a moment she thought he hesitated by her door and she held her breath, waiting for a knock, but it was to no avail as his steps continued on and his door closed. 

_Coward_. 

He was probably on his knees right now by his bed, saying his nightly devotions and no doubt throwing in a brotherly prayer for the good Lord to look after his sister. Observing him today she was disappointed at the shell he had become. So good and pious and kind and without fire or life. Such a waste.

She would change that and then take pleasure in destroying it.

Her eyelids were heavy even though her heart was beating fast and her mind was teeming with plans. As much as she wanted to stay awake it seemed as if a calm floated down around her and she fell seamlessly into a dreamless sleep.

***************

"Sansa?"

The light knock and his deepened voice pulled her out of her slumber. Sansa rolled over to look at the clock and cursed under her breath.

_5 am_.

"Yeah." She cleared her throat. 

"I - I am always up this early and I always start coffee and fix something for breakfast. You still drink cappuccino with caramel? Do you want breakfast?"

_5 am. Fuck_.

"Um." Groggy, she rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door to open it. "It's five in the -"

Robb had taken a step back as she stared at him. He was already dressed in his black pants and shirt with his white collar, pressed and immaculate. Hair perfectly wavy in relaxed curls and beard freshly trimmed. A small smile formed on his face, accentuating full, pink lips and forming lines around the corners. His eyes - so strongly blue like her own - held no sparkle in them like she remembered but they were full of masked emotion. It was all Sansa could do to remain composed when all she wanted to do was rip the collar from his neck and slap him across the face. Or maybe she wanted to claw his perfect face. _Perfect. Perfect, perfect Robb. Perfect life, perfect looks, perfect everything_. She felt the heat rise in the back of her neck and between her legs. _Damn him_. Robb glanced away from her and rubbed the back on his neck with his hand. _His hands_ -

"Sansa? I know it's early but I -"

"It's fine." She managed a sweet smile. "I'll be down in a bit. Yes, I still love those caramel cappuccinos, thank you, but I'm not much on breakfast."

"All right. I'll still fix extra in case you change your mind." He still looked away, her pretty smile wasted. "If you need anything let me know."

"Thanks, Robb," she managed to get out. He nodded and turned to ease down the stairs, not once looking back. She watched him leave, taking in his narrowed waist and broad back. Of course. He still had the perfect body as well. What a waste.

For a moment she debated on going back to bed but decided against it. Now was a good opportunity to talk to him before he left for the day. She could always lie down after he left. Podrick wasn't set to show her around until after he finished work so she pretty much had the whole day to herself. She suspected there wasn't much to sight-see and it was just an excuse for a date and maybe a good fuck before he dropped her off. She needed a release, needed some fun and Podrick looked like he would be more than sufficient to help a poor frustrated girl out. If only he wasn't so gentlemanly. She wanted to be fucked and fucked proper. The ache was an inferno now that Robb was in close proximity. After all these years... after all this time... her body still betrayed her.

Her mind was a traitor as well. 

Instead of being good and preparing to sit with Robb at the kitchen table, she stepped out into the hallway, listening for movement below. Vaguely she heard some clanking around and knew Robb was performing his morning ritual. Good. It would give her some time to snoop around his room, an area he did not show her as he gave her a quick tour of the two-story brick house. She could wait until he left for the day but there was something a bit titillating about being in his room while he was just downstairs. Besides, she was never one to wait long for anything once her interest was peaked.

Tiptoeing across the way past the bathroom, she carefully opened his bedroom door and stepped in. She just wanted to peek, to see what kind of room Robb kept nowadays, and she was somewhat disappointed. It was dark and sparsely decorated. A simple Queen sized bed with no head or foot board, with a dark green comforter and pillows. The nightstand held a vintage looking lamp and alarm clock, and a thin wooden rack where his Rosary beads hung on display. There was a small three section bookshelf filled with religious books, and then a dresser sat opposite the bed, sparsely decorated. There looked to be a watch and two framed photographs on it. Next to the dresser sat a full-length swivel mirror. On the wall above his bed was an ornate crucifix, the body of Jesus looked like it was carved out of white marble. Inching closer to the dresser, she recognized the first photo, of Robb standing with Father Jorah Mormont, his mentor. The second one made her purse her lips and glare. It was Robb with his church staff, or maybe friends? She recognized Deacon Sam and Bronn and Podrick, but what caught her eye was how Myrcella was standing next to Robb, so very close, smiling her sugary grin. Robb was smiling, too. Something she hadn't seen him truly do yet. Not around her. She used to make him smile plenty. 

She wondered if they were fucking. Or, if they had already fucked in the past. Sansa couldn't help but stare into the photo at her brother's smiling face. Just because he was a Priest and took vows of celibacy, it didn't mean he was a celibate man. Priests broke their vows all the time, with women or men or boys. Robb was still just a man, not this saint everyone was placing on a pedestal. She of all people knew just how ungodly he truly was. If he hadn't broken any vows yet, well, his days were numbered.

Confidently she smiled and backed out of his plain room to saunter into the bathroom. She already had laid out her toiletries on the counter and Robb had not protested. Makeup bag, toothbrush, hairbrush, hair products, Running her brush through her tangled mop she stared at her reflection in the spotless mirror. She knew she was beautiful even without makeup, even with her hair a mess and sporting morning mouth. Her skin had a healthy glow even for as pale as she was. She was every bit as lovely as Mycrella or Margaery yet Robb refused to look her in the eyes. It wasn't out of repulsion, that much she knew. Nothing about her ever disgusted Robb. Quite the contrary.

Unless the Church really brainwashed him and he's had a total mindfuck concerning his conscience. 

Well, she was here to remedy that.

Humming a light little tune she picked up her toothbrush and swiped the tube of paste Robb had sitting by the toothbrush holder. The minty goodness reached her teeth. She remembered making everyone laugh today with her story of how Robb had to chase her down and brush her teeth when she refused to. It was an amusing story to everyone and Robb had blushed and smiled nervously. Even Robb had not known that she had purposely done it to have him chase her. She had been fourteen at the time, just starting on her discovery of sexual feelings and exploration. It confused her and she had been so shy and quiet, timid and so eager to please everyone around her, unsure of her awkward looks. Robb was seventeen and already good looking and self-assured. Sansa's feelings for her own brother were confusing and she became uncomfortable around him when he would run around in a towel after a shower or without a shirt in the summer. It wasn't right to compare her brother favorably to those stupid boys in school or dream that Robb was her knight in shining armor. All she knew was that she found a way for him to touch her in a way she had found oddly arousing to her confused body. It wasn't the hugs or the forehead kisses or hair mussing that made her feel less than sisterly; it was the tackling, the pinning down, the being restrained while she struggled and felt his body bearing down on her that made her wet and and yearning for something she should never have wanted from her own brother. Even as he held her mouth open to brush her teeth she bucked up into him, seemingly to push him off but in reality she was inviting something to ease her ache; and she had felt that something hard against her as he mercilessly scrubbed her teeth clean. 

Now he could barely look at her.

She spit viciously into the sink and ran the water, aware of the wetness between her legs, aching like she ached for him back then. She hated him, this revered Robb, this so-called man who wore his religion to cloak his own past sins. Perhaps he was a product of her own making, her own mistakes, but he was just as guilty as she. 

"Asshole," she muttered before wiping her mouth off with a hand towel. She stared down at her toothbrush.

" _Open up, Sansa. Always making it so damn hard on me. You liked my hands prying open your mouth for that damn brush, didn't you? Just like you want me to spread your legs for you_."

"Um." She shivered.

Robb's toothbrush handing the in holder caught her eye. Sansa grabbed it. It was still damp, indicating he has already brushed his teeth this morning. It was a simple tooth brush; she thumbed over the bristles, hard and firm to the touch. It had been in his mouth. It had touched his tongue and his thick lips had circled around it.

Clutching it, she left the bathroom and ventured into Robb's room again, only to lie down on his bed. His scent was all over the comforter and pillow, and for a moment she wondered what he thought of each night after he finished his devotions and slipped into bed. Did he sleep a sound sleep? Did he ever lie awake at night and think of the past, like she did? Did it haunt him, what happened, or did his God absolve him of it all?

She closed her eyes, her head turned sideways into his pillow to breathe him in. He was right downstairs. What would happen if he came up here now and found her on his bed? Would he be angry? Shocked? Would he demand she get off his bed or would he let her lie here? She remembered another time, so long ago, when he had caught her lying in his bed -

_Before Robb went out on a double date that night, she wanted to thank him for his latest present to her: a very coveted Happy-Go-Lucky Bear. She was seventeen and a junior in high school but still loved to collect bears, and Robb indulged her_.

_It was completely by accident she walked in on him while he was changing and she got more than an eyeful of his completely naked form. Sure, she had seen him swathed in a towel more times than she could count, but everything was exposed to her. He wasn't ashamed of it. In her shock she dropped her bear and her eyes naturally drifted to his cock and she immediately tried to flee, but he trapped her up against the door. They had been playing such a dangerous little game up until then. She tested her shy flirting onto him and he made sure to invite it. It has been so easy to let herself get swept up in the idea of handsome, self-assured, popular Robb giving her male attention, but this... this was different. She felt the tension and sexual heat and for a moment she thought he would kiss her on the mouth. Instead he made fun of her new boyfriend, Harry, and taunted her about playing with bears and needing a real man. She had dug her nails in his chest to flee but the feel of his hair under her fingers struck something dark and primal in her, something she didn't know how to handle_. 

_It was late at night when she finally got up the nerve to go back to his room. She wanted to talk to him, thank him for the bear and maybe... who knew what she wanted. The house was so still. Mom and Dad were out late as well, and Sansa had the duty of watching Bran, Arya, and Rickon on a Saturday night. They were all fast asleep. Disappointment flooded her when she opened his door to find he hadn't come home yet. She spotted the bear on his dresser, left from when she ran out and she grabbed it before throwing herself on his bed. His room was barely used but it was Christmas break and he was home from college, even though he spent quite a bit of time hanging out with Jon and going out on dates_. 

_The pillows smelled of him and she allowed herself to imagine him lying naked next to her. He looked so very different from Harry. More a man than a boy. Making out with Harry was nice but he had a weak embrace and lacked Robb's style. Robb's swagger. She grabbed the pillow lying beside her and bit her lip. Just thinking about how he trapped her up against the door was making her ache. Before she knew what she was doing she had tossed her bear to the side and stuffed his pillow between her legs and rolled over onto her stomach. She'd heard girls giggling about using pillows to get off and wondered how it worked. They said it was like riding cowgirl during sex. Something about humping Robb's pillow seemed so wicked and uncharacteristic of her but she reached down to shuck her panties off and lift her nightshirt up around her waist. The pillow was cool under her and she awkwardly rubbed against it, trying to find some friction. It was soft and yielded no pleasure so she tried to closer her legs tighter together but it just didn't seem to be working_.

" _You need something more firm, Sansa. That isn't working for you for shit_."

_His voice startled her and she gasped, trying to scramble off the pillow and grab her underwear, nearly crying and flushing in shame. In no time he had slammed his door and pounced on the bed. She could smell alcohol on his breath as he hovered over her. He had her pinned down in no time and she realized in horror her nightshirt was still bunched up around her waist, exposing her to him. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear and embarrassment and she heard him laugh. Fright spread through her. More firm. Was he going to fuck her? She had never been fucked before. Surely he couldn't mean_ -

" _Don't you know anything? No, you don't. That's why you have me. To make it better for you. Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what I am doing to you_ -"

_She obeyed at the thickness in his voice and eyes widened at his face. His mouth was slack and sensual as he stared into her and it shot straight to her pussy. It affected her more than the pillow had. She opened her mouth to speak or maybe protest but it died in her throat when he released one of her wrists to grab her bear. Happy-Go-Lucky. She couldn't believe it when he shoved the bear's snout down onto her lower stomach and she tensed, closing her legs up tight_.

" _Open up, Sansa. Always making it so damn hard on me. You liked my hands prying open your mouth for that damn brush, didn't you? Just like you want me to spread your legs for you_."

_It was with rough insistence that Robb reached down to part her legs but she let him do it while her heart hammered wildly in her chest and her mouth went dry. Within seconds he shoved the bear between her legs so the hard plastic snout was on her clit and he started moving it up and down, pressing firm against her folds. Despite her denial of what was happening her body responded and she whimpered a little while her arms reached out to grab the comforter beneath her. His head had bowed for a moment and she dared to look down while her brother masturbated her with stuffed animal gifted by him. Instinctively her hips gyrated against his ministrations. His head shot up and he grinned, an almost sinister chuckle emerging_.

" _Wicked girl. You like your brother using Happy to get you off. Who knew sweet little Sansa Stark was so naughty? I knew. I know_."

" _No... no..." she whispered. "I'm not bad. I _-"__

____

" _I didn't say bad. I said naughty." He laughed again with no mirth behind it. "You love this game we play, don't you _?"__

______ _ _

_She meant to try to say something else but suddenly his mouth found hers and he was kissing her fiercely and she had no time to process anything but the pleasure building between her thighs and in her mouth and she kissed him back with all the passion she could muster. Somehow her arms grappled for him even though she didn't want to and she clutched onto his shirt for dear life as he kissed her again and again, rubbing the bear harder and faster. His body was turned to the side but she was still flat on her back, spread like a whore for her brother, for her stuffed animal. That was when she felt his fingers. His long fingers touching her instead of the bear's nose. She was mistaken, she was imagining it, there was no way he would dare... but he did. The bear fell away and there was no more pretense as she felt his fingers rubbing her clit as he moaned in her mouth. It felt a hundred times better than Harry trying to rub her and a million times better than her own hand. It took no time to arch against his hand and feel the pressure building. Robb stopped kissing to stare into her eyes and she turned her head away into the pillows. She felt herself starting to climax and opened her mouth to cry out when suddenly Robb slapped his hand down over her mouth to silence her while furiously rubbing her through the orgasm. Her scream died in her throat and tears formed in her eyes as the pleasure and shame washed over her_.

______ _ _

" _Fuck." Robb gasped, running his fingers down to her opening, swiping there. He let go of her mouth as she came down from her high. "So much cum, Sansa. You fucking wet my comforter. Such a little whore for me, aren't you_ ?"

______ _ _

_Her legs trembled as she squirmed away from him, grabbing her bear and making a mad dash off the bed. She sprinted out the door and to her own room, slamming the door shut and locking it. Her legs bucked and she collapsed to the floor, terrified of what just happened. Her own brother. Her own brother. She waited, breathless, for him to come knocking on the door, to offer an apology or to see if she was all right. She waited. Waited for him to come to her and touch her again but all she got was silence beyond the door _.__

________ _ _ _ _

Sansa opened her eyes. She wasn't seventeen and naive any more. She was a twenty-seven year old adult with a clear head on her shoulders and a plan. She had the upper hand now, she would call the shots and she would dominate him. She would torture him and let him know she was no one's whore. Not even his. Even if she was once again in his bed, sexually aroused and thinking of him.

________ _ _ _ _

She yanked up her t-shirt and snaked Robb's toothbrush down underneath her panties. The bristles were rough and poking on her clit as she began rubbing. His mouth, his lips, his tongue and fingers were on her by proxy, and it was enough.

________ _ _ _ _

" _You liked my hands prying open your mouth for that damn brush, didn't you_ ?"

________ _ _ _ _

"Yes." She whispered, moving faster. She was already soaked from the memories and throbbing for a release as she moved the tooth brush faster, sideways, delving into the folds while scrubbing her clit. His mouth, his mouth. His fingers scraping her clit for the first time. It felt like nothing has since. Faster, faster. "Fuck."

________ _ _ _ _

He was downstairs, being a good big brother by cooking breakfast and making her coffee. As if that could eradicate all that has happened between them. As if he never tasted her lips or made her cry out his name. As if he never brutally betrayed her and took her innocence away -

________ _ _ _ _

Sansa bit her lip, engulfed in his scent around her, flooded with memories filled with love and lust and hate. It was tipping her over the edge but she needed more. 

________ _ _ _ _

She slid the brush further down, bristles facing downward, inserting it inside her drenched opening. It stung from the abrasiveness but she loved it as she fucked herself furiously, her other hand reaching down to her clit. It took no time and she arched up and suppressed a cry as she came, came so hard she knew Robb's poor toothbrush was flooded.

________ _ _ _ _

Sighing, but not satisfied, she slowly withdrew the brush and held it up for inspection, her juices glistening around the head. Not happy with just that, she swiped a finger down into her hole and soaked her fingers, only to wipe them on Robb's comforter. Moving away she noticed there was a small damp spot as well. Nothing that wouldn't dry but perhaps some of her scent would linger.

________ _ _ _ _

Her good mood was temporarily restored as she bounded off the bed into the bathroom to replace his toothbrush to its rightful place. Swiping the toothpaste she made her way to her room to throw it into one of her suitcases. Poor Robb would just have to use his toothbrush without paste next time.

________ _ _ _ _

What a pity.

________ _ _ _ _

Within minutes she had thrown on a bra and jeans and a t-shirt and bounded down the stairs, humming a happy tune.

________ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood board by the lovely sansafeels! Thank you!!
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> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/158286876@N06/28255661199/in/dateposted-public/)  
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	6. A Matter Of Time

The ticking of the clock in the kitchen was deafening to Robb as he hurriedly downed his breakfast and sipped his coffee. He had every intention of booking it out the door before Sansa came downstairs. It seemed like she either went back to sleep or was just taking her sweet old time, and from what he knew, the latter as probably true. She always did take forever to primp even if she wasn't going anywhere. In her words, you just never knew when someone might call and want to do something on the fly.

He was exhausted and the coffee was much needed. He had been up earlier than usual and skipped his morning jogging routine to drive to the closest supermarket to buy everything he needed to make Sansa's cappucinos, hoping she still drank it with the caramel. He didn't think she would have developed a taste for his black coffee no sugar fare and it was all he had in the house. Of course, once he was home he had to read up on how to make it. It probably tasted horrible and he realized maybe he should have just let her make it herself when she came down. He blamed the lack of sleep on it.

It took forever to fall asleep last night and even his nightly prayers before bed did nothing to ease his troubled mind or tense body. For the first time in a decade his sister was asleep in the same house and not even God could soothe his thoughts. Of course he added her in his prayers, asking God to watch over her, but it was nothing unusual to have Sansa make his nightly devotions. She was never far from his conscience at night but without her in his presence he could reconcile any feelings of her and find some peace. But now? All he could think was to ask why she was here, why now, what did she want. Why now of all times. If anything was happening with the family he would have heard from Arya, Bran, or Rickon, so it could not be that. She said she missed him, wanted to make amends. As a priest he was to understand, forgive, direct. But what she did - and the very reason he was here - was that something that she needed his forgiveness for?

"Good morning Robb!" 

Startled, he looked up from his meal to see Sansa bounding into the kitchen. She looked lovely even in an old ratty t-shirt and baggy jeans, her hair flowing down around her shoulders. He had to blink before pulling his mouth into a forced smile. Could he get used to seeing the woman in front of him and not the girl of seventeen? Although at seventeen he recognized the emerging woman, didn't he? Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he gripped his cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sansa," he replied evenly, making an awkward attempt to stand from his chair. She swatted her hand in his direction, smiling sunnily. He forgot how chipper she could be in the mornings and how crazy it always drove him.

"Oh, Robb, this isn't a restaurant and you're not my date. You don't need to get up from your chair, for Christ's sake - uh, sorry, I mean -" She tossed her hair and grinned sheepishly. "That was rude."

"I am sure the Lord forgives cursing fairly easily." The small smile on his face was genuine this time. Her smile radiated her entire face and reminded him of better times. "Just don't let it happen again."

She slinked into the seat opposite him at the table and looked down at the plate. He had arranged a small array for her with a glass of orange juice. She smiled and stared up into his face and he struggled to meet her gaze evenly. _Her face_.

"Thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome. Your cappucino is over there, too, if you want to try it."

This was good. The tension wasn't as strong as it was last night before bed. If they could keep with the niceties for the duration of her visit -

"Robb, you know I am here to mend fences. I wanted to see you and I am happy you are doing so well here."

 _So much for niceties_.

"You seem well."

"Yes, oh yes, I am." She started attacking her food as if she hadn't eaten in days. "I don't know how much Arya or Bran or Rickon has told you, but I graduated with honors with my degree in psychology. I interned at the Riverrun Institute before moving on to Winterfell's Children Hospital. I just recently quit there, though. I kind of had to, my ex boyfriend was my co-worker and well, I knew things would go badly."

"Why? Was he abusive? Was he -" Robb swallowed, dreading the answer. 

"No." She took a swig of her orange juice. "He just wasn't what I was into. No use in stringing him along and lying to myself about who I am, you know? It would just make work hella awkward. I broke up by text so I am sure he is pissed. Um, sorry for the language again."

"What are you going to do now? With no job?"

Sansa shrugged. Of course she wouldn't care. He was sure Mom and Dad's money would last her a long while. They were always so generous to their children, especially Sansa. Robb fell silent and could feel the clock pounding in his head. 

"Robb."

He glanced up at the clock as if his cell wasn't sitting next to him or he didn't have his watch on his wrist. It was something to concentrate on because for some reason he did not want to look at her beautiful face. He felt her lean over the small breakfast table and her cool, slim hand clasped onto his.

"Robb, I've been trying to talk to Mom about what happened." Her voice was soft and he couldn't help but close his eyes. "I've been trying to explain I didn't mean it -"

He stood up, nearly knocking over his coffee cup as he yanked his hand away from her grip. Her touch burned him. He couldn't look at her, wouldn't.

"It's getting late. I need to stop by the church before I start my rounds. I'll see you tonight."

"I'm going out with Podrick tonight. I might be late -" He could hear the crestfallen tone in her voice.

"It's fine, Sansa. I have a key hanging by the door. You can take that. I - I trust you."

"You do?" He thought he heard the surprise, the hope. "Really?"

"Yes, Sansa. I do. Have a good time seeing the town, okay?"

He didn't wait for a reply as he hurried out the door, hoping God could forgive him for lying. 

 

********************

At least he had a calming influence in Myrcella, who greeted him in the church office with her usual exuberance.

"Good morning, Father Robb! Today is Feltway Manor day, then off to the hospital after lunch." She smiled prettily from behind her desk. "Last night was so nice, getting to meet your sister. She seems so sweet. And so pretty. Now I think I've met all your siblings, yes? Lovely family you have."

"Thank you, Cella." His eyes swept over her as if really noticing her for the first time. She was lovely and sweet, dressed primly in a light rose colored blouse and black skirt. Her makeup was minimal and her beautiful golden tresses were bound tightly in a bun. Her only jewelry was a small silver cross necklace. He thought of Sansa, clad only in a causal long t-shirt answering her bedroom door. So beautiful in simple clothing, maybe even more beautiful because of it. "Anything else of importance today?"

"No, not really. Oh, the Prayer Shawl Meeting is tonight and the ladies have requested that you bless their completed shawls before they are donated."

Inwardly Robb cringed without meaning to.The Prayer Shawl group was no more than a vicious gossip mill. Usually his appearance was accentuated with cakes and cookies and punch and usually left Robb with a stomach ache and headache before he left. Still, it was a charitable act with the donations of the prayer shawls so he could not really complain. If God could sacrifice his only son, he could sacrifice an hour a week to sit with a cluster of busybodies. For an instant he wondered what their reaction would be if they knew what he did with his own sister in the past and decided he'd rather not know.

"Are you going?" Myrcella sometimes attended. "Maybe you could discourage the barrage of sweets this time?"

"I think I am. Really, Father Robb, they just want to fatten you up. They say you are too skinny."

Robb smiled. 

"Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins, you know." 

_So is lust_ , his brain sneered. He tried to ignore it.

 

********************

Nursing home visitation completed.

Lunch with Myrcella and Podrick.

Hospital.

Home, finally.

The house as quiet and dark except Sansa had left the entrance light on for him. There was a note taped on the TV, like she used to do when they were kids. Even now when he reluctantly gave her his cell number, she still went the paper and pen route.

 _Got bored and cleaned the kitchen. Hope you don't mind. I will see you later. Don't wait up_.  
\--Sansa

His finger traced over her perfect cursive. She had always been so perfect, so neat. Mom and Dad's little darling, she could do no wrong, tell no lies.

He was tired. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Visiting the nursing home and hospital did that to him. It made him hurt, made him sad, even made him despair. Of course by the grace of God he was supposed to concentrate on the sanctity of life, the positive, the light. It just was so hard sometimes and he was only human. He had forgotten how many times he has performed Last Rights, lost count of the funerals he officated over. Yet he could not be indifferent to death, even as it meant eternal life.

Sighing, he folded Sansa's note and crept his way upstairs. Usually his nightly ritual included a quick shower before prayers and bed but he skipped the shower and went right to washing his hands and face instead. His reflection showed dark circles formed under his eyes and he wondered if he would ever get a good night's rest ever again. Maybe tonight. Sansa was out and he was ready to pass out. Maybe his body would finally let him rest.

He reached for his toothbrush and frowned. Where was the toothpaste? Glancing around he saw nothing except Sansa's cosmetics and her own toothbrush, as if she moved right in. He even checked the wastebasket to make sure it didn't get knocked over. Under the sink? No. Medicine cabinet? No. No mouthwash either.

It was a small problem but after the day - weeks, rather - that he'd had, it seemed like a bigger one than it really was. Maybe there was enough residue on it to get through the night. He would go to the store tomorrow and pick up a new tube.

He skimmed it under running water, shoved it into his mouth, started brushing ... and paused.

 _No_.

His lips involuntarily tightened around the bristles, his tongue circling.

Hallucinating. He was so tired he was hallucinating. Was he being tested? Do tastes happen in a hallucination?

He should yank the toothbrush out in disgust. Instead, he sucked on the bristles. Tasting a flavor he had never forgotten; faint but the sweetest forbidden nectar he would ever have on his tongue. The pit of his stomach tightened. It was not real. How could it be real? It was because she was in his life again, nothing more. This was only in his imagination.

 _Take it out. Run it under scalding hot water. Rinse your mouth out with water or orange juice or anything to get the taste out. Go down on your knees and beg forgiveness for the sinful thoughts racing in your brain. Go for a walk. A jog. Take a cold shower. Think of the parish, of the life you built. You are a good priest. A servant of God. You are above this. Overcome it_ -

Robb bowed his head, his eyes closing, his mouth sucking harder as he swallowed. The taste was lessening and he yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth, only to slam it down so hard it bounced off the sink and hit the floor with a soft _tink_. He hunched over the sink, moving back to create a space between him and the counter while his left hand grasped the edge. His body, so dead to desire by sheer will and practice sprang to life, his cock straining against his black pants. It didn't matter how long it has been, it didn't matter. He had the taste of her in his mouth again as if it was yesterday. His heart thumped wildly against his chest. So hard he thought it break free. He needed control but as he squeezed his eyes tight and clenched his jaw, his right hand resting on his belt buckle. He was a man of God. He was supposed to remain above temptations of the flesh but in the moment, it didn't matter -

 _It didn't matter that their parents were downstairs in the family room. All that mattered was he had her cornered in the bathroom. She was draped in nothing more than a pink towel and she squeaked in surprise when he boldly stepped in, locking the door behind him_.

" _Robb! What are you doing in here!" Her voice was a high-pitched whisper. "Get out before we get caught_ !"

 _He didn't care. It had been over a week since he masturbated her in his bed. It was all that was on his mind but she had been avoiding him. Preferring to fuck around with that Harry kid rather than talk to him about what happened or about anything at all, really. He didn't bother answering her. His only reply was to shove her up against the bathroom wall. She bit her lip and looked up at him imploringly, clutching her towel_.

" _I'm not going to take your fucking towel," he growled, and before she could reply he pressed his body up against hers. It took only seconds for him to unzip his jeans, fumbling to take out his erection. "Touch me, Sansa. I know you want to." He knew she wanted to. He wanted her to. And she did, stroking a finger hesitantly up and down his length, stopping to circle his head before becoming bolder. He could tell she has handled a cock before and was not glad of it but thought otherwise as she grasped him. He stared into her but her eyes screwed shut and he saw her swallow hard. He could not enjoy her this way_.

 _Frustrated, he reluctantly shoved her hand away and dropped to his knees, his cock in one hand while the other shoved up her towel to expose her cunt to him. Damp from her shower, her tuft of red glistened and it was enough for him as he moved in and took a long swipe at her with his tongue. She gasped in surprise but spread her legs for him and he smiled as he licked into her folds. Her gasps turned into small whimpers as he licked and laved, sucking her clit before dipping into her hole, tasting her. At that he felt her hands grab hold of his curls and she bucked forward. It as enough to drive him crazy as he pumped himself while tongue fucking her. Even around his tongue she was tight and becoming so wet his mouth was saturated with her. He could live on the taste of her. She was the sweetest thing he ever tasted. He felt her tensing and knew she would peak; he stroked himself faster, harder, pacing himself. It took no time for her to whimper out with her orgasm and she flowed onto his tongue. He drank of her as he came, spilling on himself_ -

"Sansa, my Sansa. Please, no. Ah -"

Robb gasped, catching his breath, shuddering as a white-hot blaze streaked through his mind, carrying him through his release.

I am but a man. Weak. A sinner. 

He came down from his euphoria, from his desperation and longing and desire, still in a haze of insomnia and torment. The evidence of his weakness was spilled all over his torso, sticky and wetting his shirt and pants. His hand unclutched his shrinking cock, softening so quickly as if it was recoiling in disgust from his touch as his breath slowed.

 _I cannot do this. I cannot be this. She needs to leave. Now_.

It was empty, these small sins. An imaginary faded taste of Sansa's cum on a toothbrush. His release for the first time in years into nothing but empty space. He could not blame Sansa. She has been nothing but sweet. Sisterly. It was him. All him. What he was a decade ago was lying just beneath his surface, the devil inside poking him. And he gave in. He could not give in.

Somehow he stumbled out of the bathroom and made his way into his bedroom, stripping off the soiled cothes and managing to pull on a pair of pajama bottoms before flopping down onto the bed, clutching his pillow to him. Even here, his pillow carried her scent. The comforter seemed to be permeated with her essence. She was everywhere. Taunting. Beckoning. Pleading.

He knew he should fall on his knees and beg forgiveness.

All he could do was turn his face into the pillow, breathe in her scent, and pray for sleep to end his torment.


	7. Second Choices

" - and this is the Town Square. Probably the busiest place in Moletown if there really is such a thing - "

Sansa surpressed a sigh and smiled her prettiest fake smile, clutching Podrick's bicep as he squired her around the center of town like it was 1850. He sure knew a lot about this one-Starbucks cowtown and actually seemed proud of the culture and history. She didn't really want to know about how the settlers founded Moletown or how every year there was a Moletown Establishment Ball to celebrate it. All she had wanted to do was entice Podrick into some enclosed area and fuck the shit out of him. Unfortunately, the man was a perfect gentleman. She certainly knew how to pick them since arriving in this town; first Mr. Selfish Married Guy, now Mr. Paragon Of Virtue.

Still, it was far better than being stuck at Robb's house, left alone to stare at religious relics and Bible verses on the walls. Before Podrick picked her up she had discreetly gone through every room in the house; opened every drawer and closet; peeked through every box stored in the basement. There was nothing of interest and Sansa was annoyed that Robb's minimal possessions indicated no deep dark secrets; there were no skeletons in his closet... at least, nothing of tangible evidence. There were only so many things to snoop through and only so many times she could masturbate on Robb's bed. She cursed herself for not bringing her sex toys along for the ride and was about to ask Podrick if there was an adult store either here or on the outskirts of town, but the man would probably be shocked and blush.

She even tried to "innocently" interest Podrick by wearing her cutest outfit. Short but flirty blue skirt with a tight lace top that accentuated her breasts nicely, paired with strappy blue shoes and a delicate silver cross around her neck. Sexy underwear was a must so she decided on her white lacy bra and thong set. Men were visual creatures and she wanted Podrick to get an eyeful. Her intent was not just to take her pleasure in him but gain his trust and learn more about Robb the Priest, especially his relationships with other women; specifically Myrcella Baratheon. She suspected there was something about that girl and she needed to know.

Unfortunately Podrick was the perfect gentleman. 

"This was a lovely tour, Podrick." She squeezed his arm while smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. "You're so sweet to do this for me. Moletown seems like a cozy place to live."

"Oh, it is. Even though I was able to show you the whole city in about two hours."

They walked back to his car where he opened the door for her and she slid into the passenger seat while saying her thanks. She did not miss his eyes lingering on her long legs so she crossed them seductively, making sure her skirt rode up just a little before she shut her door. He seemed a little nervous, shy, as he jerked around for his seat belt. Absentmindedly she watched him fumbling around while twirling a lock of her hair. He was good-looking, no doubt about it, with those big brown eyes and simple smile. His dark green shirt and jeans were nicely fitted to his built bod. He was truly fuckable and she imagined him to be a sweetheart in bed. A giver. Nothing wrong with being a giver but she could try to coax him past his vanilla moves. 

"Podrick -"

"Please, my friends call me Pod."

"Pod." A one-syllable name was even better for moaning in bed. "Pod, it's such a beautiful night. Is there somewhere more...private we could sit and just talk?"

"Uh, well, I -" He cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. "I don't know about private, Sansa, but... I can take you to a bar just out of town. It's never really that busy, and none of the busybodies ever go there. I mean, if you drink? I -"

"Oh god, I would love a drink," she exclaimed, relieved. It wasn't parking and getting it on in a secluded area, but maybe a few drinks would cure her boredom and loosen Pod up.

"Great! It's called Mary's."

"Not as in Saint Mary's, I hope?"

Pod chuckled at that, glancing over at her. Her eyes scanned his body before meeting his face and she noticed a small blush creeping up his neck. 

"Well, I'm not a drinker, Sansa, but I can have a beer or two."

Imagine that. Pod couldn't even be a fun boozer so she wouldn't be able to get him totally blitzed and coax him into some fun. Well, a couple beers might at least loosen him up a little and she could work with that. If only she still had her hotel room, things would be so much easier but her desire was to move into Robb's house as soon as possible. By the time they were done at the bar Robb would be at home, so no fun to be had there. Pod lived at the Manderly farm with Bronn and a couple other of ex-cons, and it would not be good to be seen there at night with him. After all, she had a sweet reputation to uphold in the community. Robb's sweet little sister. 

Mary's turned out to be a ten-minute drive out of the city limits, stuck in the middle of pretty much nowhere off of the highway. It wasn't an entirely seedy joint except for the flashing red sign and a parking lot that was in need of repaving. Inside was clean and the patrons were sparse while the music in the the background was thankfully faint. It was easy to lead Pod to a secluded table in the back just after he ordered a couple of beers for them. 

"So how do you like Moletown? I admit it isn't much but it's scenic and the people are friendly. I had a rough time when I was released but Father Robb got me on at Manderly's Farm. I'm not originally from here but everyone has made it feel like home."

"I am used to a big city. Winterfell has everything to offer. This is... cozy. More personal." She struggled to find some nice words to use."Someplace to raise kids, I imagine."

"Yeah, I thought about that. Raising a family. This seems a good a place as any."

"Any lucky girls as a contender to become Mrs. Payne?" She smiled sweetly. "Maybe Myrcella? I think I saw her giving you googly eyes at some point when we were all over at Robb's."

"Myrcella?" Pod's eyebrow cocked up and he grinned. "Aww, Cella is a sweet girl. We're friends, nothing more. I suppose she would be great wife and mom material for someone, though."

"Oh?" Daggers hit her heart and pinchers poked behind her eyes. "Is she - is she dating anyone?"

"Nah, not that I know of, and I am sure I would know. Then again, Cella confides more in Robb than me."

Sansa's jaw clenched at that and she did not miss the tone change in his voice. Her profession gave her the advantage over people and she could tell Pod cared for Myrcella. It bothered her but more so the fact that he admitted Myrcella trusted Robb more. She rehearsed the next question in her head about Pod's bubbly blonde buddy but it was left unspoken as their server approached with their adult beverages.

"Well Pod, look at you with the new girl in town. Listen, these are on the house and I don't expect a tip."

Sansa looked up in surprise. 

Magaery Tyrell. Ah, right. Margaery I-want-Robb's-body Tyrell. Great.

A tanned, slender arm reached down to slide the beers at them from a firmly held tray. Margaery was undeniably a beautiful woman, with cat's eyes and long brown hair swept up in a high ponytail. Her perfect breasts spilled out of her tight black corset top which matched her black skirt. Sansa thought she looked more like a high-class hooker than a server, but that was probably how she got the tips. Her sensual mouth curved into sharp points as her golden eyes took in the sight of the both of them.

"Hey Marg." Pod didn't seem impressed with her looks or her body as he twisted the cap off a beer bottle and handed it to Sansa. "I was just showing Sansa the sights."

"Oh, taking the girl on a five-minute date? How quaint." She leaned over to Sansa to whisper in her ear, her ponytail grazing her face. "You can do better than a tour guide date."

"I heard that!" Pod snapped off his cap and started chugging. "You're right, I won't worry about a tip."

Margaery just laughed and sauntered away. Sansa noted Pod didn't even bother to check out her ass fitted so snugly against the back of her skirt. At least Pod was a faithful date.

"So you're good friends with Margaery?" Sansa sipped her beer.

"Yeah, well, I mean, sort of. She's Myrcella's best friend. She's been her bestie since childhood, I guess. They stick like glue to each other, even when they've had boyfriends. Kind of makes me envious. I've never had a friend like that. All of my old friends abandoned me when I got locked up. Now I guess I consider Bronn and your brother my nearest and dearest."

Sansa had already done her research on Pod and his arrest, conviction, and time served. Caught peddling prescription drugs. The judge had gone light on him and Sansa could understand why. Truth be told she was less interested in Pod's indiscretions and more interested in his knowledge of Robb's time as a priest but she wanted to know everything she could about the man she was trying to glean information from. And trying to fuck. Which obviously wasn't happening tonight.

She engaged Pod into more conversations about his work on Manderly's farm and his part-time gig at the hotel, trying to delicately turn the topics back around to Robb and also Myrcella, and even though he talked about Robb and of course extolled his goodness as a virtuous do-gooder, he remained fairly tight-lipped on Myrcella. She tried to coax him into more beer but he insisted two was his limit even as she ordered a third and fourth. All the while she kept her outwardly sweet demeanor but inside her frustration was brimming to a boiling point. Sexually, mentally, emotionally. Patience was a virtue she never had and briefly she considered working on Bronn. He was infatuated with Blondie as well and maybe he would be easier to fuck, but there was something about Podrick. Something sweet and honest and good, something to be enjoyed but at the same time corrupted; and Sansa was all about corruption.

Excusing herself to use the restroom, Sansa found a brief moment of relief while peeing in the stall. She never could hold beer very well and she was amazed she made it to beer four. The night was not going as well as she had hoped but her consolation was that Pod was very much interested in her. It was just going to take longer to pierce through that shield of chivalry. She enjoyed a challenge as much as anyone but she was also pretty damn horny. Beer always did that to her and she was struggling to not act like a desperate barfly at closing time.

Her phone went off as she was washing her hands and she fished it out of her purse, drawing in a breath. Robb had sent a text. It was strange to have his number and even more odd to see a text from him. A text from his own hands. She swallowed, tracing her finger over his typed letters. _Robb_.

_Called in to the hospital. Not sure when I will be home. I left the lights on_.

Quickly she replied with a short _OK_ and then added a _take care_ for flair as a slow smile formed. No Robb meant empty house. Which meant opportunity for some alone time with Pod.

Stuffing the phone back into her purse she stared into the mirror and smoothed down her hair, straightening her cross necklace with a smirk. 

The door swung open and Margaery sashayed in. She proceeded to wash her hands, giving a smile to Sansa in the mirror. Sansa smiled in return but felt like clawing her eyes out. Here was a woman after Robb. If Robb ever gave her the time of day she would be fucking him and from the looks and demeanor of her she was probably a good fuck.

"So Pod is sweet on you. Only in town a few days and you have one of the cutest guys in town wrapped around your finger. Lucky you."

"He is easy on the eyes, isn't he?" Sansa slung her purse over her shoulder. "But not as much as my brother, I suppose?"

Margaery's smile turned into a straight line before morphing into a smirk.

"Your brother is hot, Sansa. I think everyone, even his own sister, can agree on that. Too bad he's so devoted to his calling. You know, you two look so much alike. You both could have anyone you wanted." Margaery waved her wet hands in front of the automated towel dispenser and snapped off the offered piece before wiping her hands dry in almost a slow, sensuous caress. "I just adore redheads."

Flipping her ponytail she dropped the paper towel in the trash bin and strutted out, with Sansa close behind her. 

Pod stood when she approached their table.

"Sansa, I hadn't realized how late it is. I need to be up at four tomorrow to work on the farm. Is it all right if I drive you home now? Maybe we can...do something this coming weekend, if you are staying that long in town. Make an actual date night of it? I mean, an official date?"

"Oh." The beer was lowering her guard. "I was hoping we could extend the night -"

"Hey!" Margaery approached. "Pod, I completely forgot about your early bird hours at the farm. You know, if Sansa isn't ready for home, she is welcome to hang with me. I just clocked out and am always up for some fun at night. My hours don't require a brutally early start to the day."

"You know, that is a great idea." Pod pushed in his chair. "I mean, maybe some girl time is in order? You know, talk about us boys, braid each others' hair, watch a horror movie -"

Sansa wanted to ask if she was actually being ditched by a guy but suddenly the wheels turned in her head. Hanging out with Margaery might be just what she needed to find out more about Myrcella. Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree? Who know the Blonde Bitch better than her best friend since childhood? If there was any history with Robb... Margaery would be the one who would know...

"Um sure. Pod, let me at least walk you out to the car to say goodbye?"

Pod smiled and offered his arm and Marg rolled her eyes but giggled.

"Girls' night it is. I'll get me one last shot to go. I'll meet you out there."

It was easy to accept his arm and walk out into the night. It was still warm -or, maybe it was the beer, who knew - and the parking lot was dimly lit. For a moment she felt a little woozy and she bumped up against him, effectively pushing him into the side of the car; maybe that was her intention. He felt good against her.

"Thank you for a very...informative evening, Mr. Podrick." 

She looked into his eyes but only for a moment before her own closed, nearing her mouth to his. He at least took the initative and kissed her. His lips were soft and kind and she snaked her hands up through his hair. The strands were straight and thick, not curly and unruly, but she could pretend. She was always pretending; whether it was the man or her, it was all just a game of illusion where she was always met with disillusion. Yet her body could at least respond and she pushed further up against him. He deepened the kiss and she felt his hands smooth down to grab onto her ass. Ah, thank god this was something. She craved more even as his lips broke away to attack her neck and then back up to her lips again; she wanted to beg him to fuck her here in the parking lot but before she could he stopped and gently pushed her away, gasping a little for air. She looked at him questioningly and he offered up a nervous smile.

"Goodnight, Sansa," he mumbled, before hurriedly getting into his car, slamming the door and nearly peeling away. 

_What the fuck just happened_ ?

"Hey Sansa!"

Margaery's heels clanked on the pavement as she made her way over, dangling her keys, motioning to the two-seater black convertible. A rather fancy car for someone who worked in a bar.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking," purred Marg as they slipped inside. "Why does someone who works in a bar have such a ride? Well, I am a trust fund baby. Let's just say I don't really have to worry about money for the rest of my life. I'm not exactly loving the penthouse lifestyle but I'm comfortable. Let's just say tending bar is my way to stay...social...and meet interesting people. Out of town, you know?"

"So you enjoy your slumming but need to uphold your reputation with the town," Sansa stated simply.

"You are so right, Sansa Stark. Beautiful and smart to boot. Hard to believe no man or woman has snagged you yet."

And there it was.

Sansa had Margaery Tyrell pegged from the beginning and now it was pretty much confirmed. Beautiful, cunning, sweet to the right people. She was used to getting her way by the art of seduction and she seduced on her own terms. A woman used to leading, not following. Definitely a Maneater and yes, a Womaneater as well. Gleaning information from her might prove even more difficult than honorable Podrick. Margaery would no doubt be more suspicious and probably tattle. How was she besties with the annoyingly pure Myrcella? And how could she get past that sharp exterior?

A new game formed in her mind. One she could win on all accounts. 

 

********************

 

"Are you sure Father Robb won't be home soon?" 

Margaery's words were low and breathless as Sansa pulled away from her mouth, licking her own lips. Marg tasted like the shot of tequila she had before they left.

Once inside the house, Sansa wasted no time in pushing Margaery up against the door and kissing her. All pretense of coming back to the house to watch a movie and talk about life experiences fell to the wayside. Her guessing of Margaery was spot on and she didn't resist the kiss. It was as if she was anticipating it. 

"He's at the hospital. Making a priestly appearance in an emergency situation. He will be awhile." To offer more reasurrance, Sansa kissed her again, offering up her tongue. Marg accepted, weaving her slender hands into her hair, pulling. She was an expert kisser.

"Upstairs," she whispered. "At least that way, we can have a warning if he comes home and we need to get... decent."

Wordlessly, Sansa grabbed her hand and they raced upstairs to her room. She nudged Marg in first, gently giving the door a push behind her. Marg tossed her purse to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed seductively, leaning back on her elbows while crossing her long legs.

"Admit it, you want to fuck me because I look so much like my brother," Sansa purred, throwing her own purse onto the chair. "You can't fuck the priest so you make do with his sister."

"Is that so wrong?" Margaery kicked off her heels, revealing red painted toenails. 

"No more wrong than me wanting to be fucked by you because Podrick Payne is too much of a gentleman." Sansa kicked off her own shoes and slinked towards her. "So we are both the second choice. I don't care as long as I cum."

Settling on her knees in front of Marg, Sansa reached out her arms to circle her waist to find the clasp and zipper in the back. It was enough for Marg to take the cue and sit up to unzip it herself. Sansa was able to slide it off with her lifting her ass up, and by the time she removed it completely, Marg had pulled off her corset-like top. Left in nothing but her black skimpy underwear, Marg tossed her ponytail in confidence. Indeed, she had a lovely body.

"So, have you done with this with your bestie Myrcella? Watched movies and had some extra fun?" She reached up to unhook Marg's bra and fling it aside. Her breasts were dark-tipped. "I cannot see anyone being immune to your charms."

"Hmmm. Oh god no. Cella would never think it."

"But you have, haven't you?" Sansa hooked her thumbs down into the waistband of Marg's panties and pulled. Marg raised her ass again so they could be taken off and tossed. She was completely shaved and already starting to swell. Her confidence showed as her legs spread wide as if demanding attention there. "You've thought about fucking that little golden cunt."

"I prefer redheads. But sure, if Cella ever was curious I wouldn't mind showing her the ropes. She's so sweet and eager to please everyone, no doubt she would be more than willing to make her best friend happy. So what about you, Sansa? Need me to show you the ropes?"

"If you mean actual ropes, by all means; otherwise, no. I can hold my own." 

"Then come here."

It was easy to move up between her legs to kiss her. Women, they always felt different. Softer. Gentler. More pliable. They tasted better and smelled better and sometimes Sansa thought she might even prefer them to all men. Well, most men. All but one man. One, only one -

"Ah!" Margarey squealed a little as Sansa bit too hard on her lower lip. Apologetically she licked a small spot of blood before drawing back. Marg reached up to grab her by the hair but Sansa pushed her down into the bed, her own hand finding a fistful of brunette locks. Confusion set in before realization and she slowly smiled.

"You want to be the man, don't you?"

"No. I want to be the woman." Sansa stood and dragged her to her feet, gripping her hair. "I want you to undress me and get on your knees."

For a moment Sansa wondered if she might resist but lust was a great motivator. It certainly increased her own to have a dominant woman wanting to play her game. Margaery wasted no time in pulling off her shirt and discarding her bra, stopping to smooth her hands over her breasts before working on her skirt and panties. Sansa kicked them aside and Marg dropped to her knees, her hands cool on Sansa's thighs.

"I never doubted you were a real redhead," she murmured, her hand skimming over her landing strip. Her touch was like velvet and so was her tongue as she licked up into her folds.

Sansa gasped and gripped Marg's head for balance as she expertly licked her, sucking on her clit with vigor and purpose. It had been so long since she had a mouth on her pussy and it was glorious, having a pair of plump lips and a pointed tongue pleasuring her. She couldn't help but gyrate into her mouth but Marg didn't seem to mind. If anything she increased her action, her hands gliding around her thighs to clutch at her ass. It didn't take long for her to cum with a small cry and Marg pulled away softly, sitting back on her heels and looking up at her with her strange golden eyes. Her mouth was wet with secretions and Sansa wanted more.

"Get on the bed." It came out more weak than she expected. 

Margaery climbed onto the bed and Sansa joined her. soon they became a mess of tangled limbs and hair and mouths. Fingers came into play as their tongues met in sloppy kisses; Sansa shoved three fingers into Marg's surprisingly tight cunt while Marg wormed two inside of her. She felt her nails scraping with every thrust but either it was the beer or her own personal preference that she didn't mind it. She came before Marg did and - as she intended all along - Sansa withdrew her fingers before Marg could achieve her orgasm.

"Ah, Sansa! I was about to -"

"Tell me, Marg, has Myrcella ever told you she fucked my brother?" Deliberately she smoothed her fingers back up inside her wet warmth. "Has she?"

"What? Ah-" She was building up again, and Sansa withdrew her fingers. "Fuck! No she fucking hasn't!"

"Has she talked about wanting to fuck him?" Marg whimpered when she shoved her fingers back inside. "Well? Tell me and I'll let you cum."

"No!" Marg's hand clamped down on Sansa's wrist, trying to prevent her from removing her fingers again. "Fuck, Sansa, Robb is a priest. She would never think -"

"Oh, but _you_ have. You've thought about it plenty. How you'd fuck him. Let me guess. You'd suck his cock like a whore. Then you'd ride that horsedick like he was your own personal stallion, wouldn't you?"

"Oh god, yes. Yes!" A shriek tore from Marg's lips as Sansa added a fourth finger. ""Oh god!"

"Suck it up, Marg, if you can't take four of my slim fingers you defintely won't be able to take Robb's dick."

In spite of the discomfort Sansa felt Marg becoming even more wet. It was almost as if she was flowing over her fingers and Sansa felt her nearing her climax. She yanked her fingers out.

"You want me to eat your pussy, don't you?" Sansa smiled cruelly before sitting up. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I don't eat pussy. Pussy eats _me_." That was a lie. She had gone down on quite a few women, but there were reasons why she wouldn't be licking Marg's cunt; and all of them had to do with Robb.

Before Margarey could protest, Sansa quickly moved to the head of the bed where Marg laid on her pillow, straddling her head, her knees planted firmly on either side by her ears. From this angle both of them faced the door, and Sansa had an aerial view of Marg's beautiful body. Her perfectly tanned body and hairless cunt still wet and puffed from arousal. Marg grabbed her thighs and Sansa's response was to reached down to grab at her throat.

"Make me cum a third time, you little whore, and I'll let you get yours." To solidify her offer, she leaned forward and snaked a hand down to Marg's pussy, finding her engorged clit and rapidly circling it. Marg moaned and jerked upwards, desperately chasing that orgasm. Sansa's fingers were soaked and slippery from all her wetness as she stopped, listening to frustrated whimpers before she smacked down hard onto her pussy. No hair and the dampness made it sting even more and Marg cried out in shock. The slap covered up a noise only Sansa heard. Marg was too engulfed in her need for release.

"Your choice, Marg. Either get up and get dressed or stick your tongue up my cunt, and then I'll get you off. You don't have a cock to fuck me with so your tongue will have to do."

Immediately she felt Marg lift her head up to run her tongue up through her folds in one long lick and Sansa smirked before lowering herself down enough for easier access, tossing her hair over her shoulders and arching her back.

"This is for you wanting to fuck my brother," she growled low, bearing down onto Margaery's tongue. "I'm going to give you a little something extra this time but I imagine you will fucking enjoy it. I know I will."

She knew what she heard then but Marg was still oblivious.

Starting to mimic sex, Sansa began to fuck Marg's tongue, reaching down to yank Marg's hand off of her thigh to slap it onto her swollen cunt. She was going to make her work for it and she was going to make her pay dearly for it. _Make her pay for wanting to fuck Robb_. 

Through the pleasure she smiled a Cheshire grin with her eyes on her door. The door that she conveniently left open a small space that Marg never noticed. A door that no longer revealed white nothingness but instead a shadow; a quiet, stunned shadow through a two inch span. It was enough of an open space and she made sure it was just enough. 

"Oh god!" She moaned, her eyes on the door, her hips jutting forward, her mouth slightly opened in a sensual shape. "Oh Jesus Fucking Christ, fuck me with your tongue! Oh my god, you love my pussy, don't you? Oh fuck, oh my god, my god, my fucking god! Make me cum!" She moaned, and whimpered, reaching down to touch herself where Marg's fingers already were, spreading her lips wide. "Oh _GOD_ !"

She meant to delay it, meant to savor sweet victory but it was too overwhelming and she peaked hard with a strangled cry, pressing down as far as she could onto Margaery's face, her legs trembling so violently she almost lost her balance. A wicked but satisfied smile formed as she surged a warm stream down Marg's throat and she giggled as she heard her companion choke and sputter in surprise but she swallowed it. She fucking took it all.

"You must really want to cum," she laughed. "Ah, very well."

Even with her weak legs she lifted off of Marg and shimmied down to lie beside her. Marg was speechless, no doubt in shock, and Sansa cuddled up against her almost as a lover would, while reaching down to insert three fingers while her thumb worked her saturated clit. It didn't take long for her to build up and Marg began to whimper and moan. Sansa slapped a hand over her wet mouth and stopped fucking her with her fingers.

"I suggest you shut the fuck up," she whispered gently. "Robb just came home. So unless you want to get caught by the priest you want to fuck, keep it down."

She didn't remove her hand but she started fucking her again and Marg bucked up into her hand. She really did feel like velvet, now a sodden mess of velvet, and she fucked her furiously. Finally Marg got what she came for as she climaxed, a low moan muffled in Sansa's hand as she closed her eyes for a moment. Sansa felt the pulses in her soft walls against her fingers and the slight rush of new secretions, but all Sansa could focus on was the look in her eyes. Fear, shame, embarrassment, and abject pleasure.

Was this how she looked all those years ago?

Now _she_ was the one with all the power.

Sansa pulled her fingers out, enjoying the slick sounds before wiping them on Marg's stomach. She lifted her hand away from her mouth, leaving Marg to sigh and shudder.

"Get your clothes, get dressed, and see yourself out," Sansa said smoothly. "I just heard Robb go into his room so you're good to go, if you hurry."

There was some satisfaction in seeing the sultry, confident Margaery turn into a horrified woman scurrying around to throw on her clothes, coughing and refusing to meet Sansa's eyes. A blush staining her cheeks made her seem even more lovely as she crept out of the room like a thief in the night, offering up a shy smile that indicated she was not entirely unhappy.

Sansa sighed, falling back onto her pillow. Her final orgasm had been the strongest one she'd had in years. It had nothing to do with Margaery Tyrell and had everything to do with what was beyond that door. The rush of it all swept over her, making her feel giddy and restless at the same time.

This game was over and she had won on all accounts.

Onto the next one.


	8. Spaghetti With A Twist (And Splatter)

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

Robb choked on a strand of spaghetti, hastily chasing it down with his glass of milk as his stomach knotted up and his whole body tensed. He couldn't even look at Sansa sitting across from him at the dining table, talking so calmly she could have been talking about the weather. Instead he focused on the napkin in his lap while he coughed and huffed deep breaths.

"Robb? Are you - are you going to be all right? Is my cooking really that bad?"

Cooking. She was asking about dinner when she had just asked him if he wanted to bring up last night? And what about it did she want to discuss, exactly? Surely she didn't know. There was no possible way she could have known -

"I'm - I'm fine, Sansa, really." He cleared his throat in affirmation before wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Must have been from eating too fast. It's really good. Thank you for making it."

"My pleasure."

He dared to meet her gaze and she was smiling sweetly while idly twirling a few stands of thin spaghetti around her fork, using a spoon for leverage, before bringing it to her lips, parting them slowly to carefully eat. She was always so dainty with her food, even more so with things that tended to be messy like spaghetti. Demurely dropping her eyes to the plate she chewed slowly. So, so slowly. His eyes darted to her mouth and then deliberately focused on two tiny spots of spaghetti sauce located on her cheek near her jawline. They had been there since he sat down and he surmised she acquired them while she was cooking. Probably the sauce bubbled and popped. He mentioned it earlier and she had swiped around, successfully erasing two more on the other side within two tries, asking him both times if she got it. After the second time he suggested they eat, abandoning the thought of taking her dishcloth and wiping it off with his own hand. There was a problem, though.

He hadn't wanted to touch her. Not even with a cloth. Not after - not after -

"You know you didn't have to cook anything." He tried to banish images from his mind. "I don't expect -"

"After a long day and busy schedule you need some starchy comfort food. Besides, it's not like I made the noodles and sauce from scratch, Robb. I just took a chance that you still liked Italian food. Then again I don't think you ever met a food you didn't like? I can't recall."

She was holding the conversation in such a nonchalant way that Robb felt some relief as he tore into the garlic bread. A small shred of doubt and an extra helping of guilt swarmed his mind as he blinked, trying so very hard to focus his attention on her. Unfortunately all he could see when he did look at his sister sitting across from him was not the Sansa in her baggy pink top with her hair twisted up into a bun; no, all he could see was a lusty Sansa, naked and completely exposed to his prying eyes, her mouth open in pleasure, her hair long and clinging to her face and shoulders, while riding Margaery Tyrell's face. 

He didn't think he was being very quiet when he came home from the hospital; rather, he had spotted Margaery's car in the driveway and figured they were hanging out in the living room, maybe jut chatting or relaxing with a late-night movie, so he didn't really consider a need to be tiptoeing. He had experienced a rush of relief that it wasn't Podrick's car and then hated himself for it. Pod was a nice man, a good man, and he would ever think to cross any lines with Sansa, and there should be no tension at the thought of him spending time with her. Still, he allowed himself to feel some sort of dim satisfaction as he stepped inside, waving his thanks to Mr. Manderly for dropping him off.

Even the blank TV and absence of bodies didn't really phase him. He figured they were upstairs in her room - well, in the guest room - and decided to just head straight to bed. It had been an exhausting day and night, especially emotionally, and all he wanted to do was crash. At least he had been tried enough to pass out, which meant no restless bed time with too many thoughts of Sansa in his head, and he also didn't have to think about what he had done either. Besides, he already begged God's forgiveness and he was planning on going to confession when he was able. It might still be a hollow effort but anything was worth a try....

Walking up the stairs he heard the unmistakable sounds of a pleasured moan and he was drawn to the door. It was cracked open; not wide but enough to see, his eyes locking and unable to look away. His heart felt like it jumped into his throat, pounding and cutting off his air, and his body betrayed him for the second time that day as his eyes feasted on her, a hunger developing sharp and deep in his belly. Beautiful. She was beautiful and even through the shock of seeing her vigorously riding Marg's mouth he appreciated how lovely she was even as he craved her woman's body. For a moment he was stricken with fear that she had seen him; her eyes seem to be looking directly into his and he swallowed, ready to bolt, yet he was cemented. She must have been focused on her own pleasure, seeing but not seeing, because she let out a string obscenities that should have disgusted him but it only made his cock even more hard, coupled with her action of reaching down to spread her pussy lips wide, unknowingly giving him a better view of her wet, pink folds, swollen and receiving Marg's busy mouth. She was erotic and filthy in her climax, her legs shaking, and he stepped back then, nearly stumbling before he pivoted and strode blindly to his room, assured her words and little cries masked any noise he might have created. It took concentration to shut his door quietly and he leaned into it, his hands shaking on the doorknob as his head rested on the wooden surface. He struggled for composure and miraculously found it even as the image of her was like fire through his mind. _Sansa_. 

Maybe a few minutes later he heard some rushing about, the door creaking open and a pair of feet racing down the stairs. He didn't hear the door shut but he heard the start of a car, and as it pulled away he backed away from the door. For a moment a perverse disappointment flooded over him. So, Sansa liked girls. Maybe that's why she ended it with that rich guy Arya talked about that she had been dating. He had never known Sansa to have any tendencies towards females but then again he hadn't been around her when she was maturing enough to explore her sexuality. Oh no, he wasn't there to witness her developing her tastes, but he was there to open her up to that first taste, wasn't he?

The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning, reading his devotionals, and even working on his plan for the next Mass. Anything. Anything to try to purge the image and sound of a naked Sansa taking the Lord's name in vain as she came. He could not banish her and his body refused to let the vision go; yet Robb managed to avoid the temptation and sin to seek his own release. He almost relished his aching, nearly painful erection as evidence of his victory over his lust, but pride was a sin, too. Perhaps God was punishing him in his way as his arousal did not diminish and neither did Sansa. In the morning, like the coward he was, he slipped out of the house before Sansa woke up. So that she would think nothing was amiss he left a note on the kitchen table saying he had to go in early to the office and he wouldn't be back until the evening, around supper time. The church office was dark and quiet, and maybe it was the absence of Sansa that made him pass out in his chair, his head dropping into his arm on the desk where Myrcella has found him before tentatively waking him up around nine or so. He had thought maybe Sansa would have been out with Pod or Margaery by the time he returned, but instead she surprised him with a spaghetti dinner, smiling at him while she revealed she had asked Myrcella to call her as soon as she knew when he was leaving. He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and more than a little guilty as she fussed over him, making sure dinner was perfectly timed, while he thanked the good Lord that she hadn't seen him spying on her. Spying. There was no other word for it; spying just as he had all those years when she was in the laundry room. Only back then the outcome was so much more different -

"Robb?" She laid her fork and spoon on her plate. He hadn't realized she had finished and he still had half his plate left. "If you don't want to talk about it with me, I completely understand. I mean, I'm sure it was hard and you probably have a lot of emotions going on. I'm probably the last person you'd want to...bare everything to."

"Sansa." He was horrified that his voice cracked. "Sansa, I -"

"No, really, Robb. I come waltzing back into your life after a decade with unresolved issues between us. I don't really deserve for you to be comfortable enough to tell me how you are feeling. I know you told me being a priest is more than officiating a Mass, I just thought the late night at the hospital was something that was bothering you. I mean, you have really dark circles under your eyes. Something must be lingering on your mind."

 _The hospital. Of course. Last night_.

Robb's whole body relaxed as Sansa brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe, still missing those two small spots.

"Well, I received a call from Mr. Manderly. His daughter Wylla -"

"Oh, the girl with that horrible green dye job?" 

"Yes, girl with green hair. She is also almost seven months pregnant, you know." Robb found himself annoyed at her rush to comment but continued. "She's having a rather complicated pregnancy and she was admitted to the hospital last night."

"How old is she?" Sansa's voice softened. "She looks very young."

"Fifteen." 

"And she's having a baby? For the love of God _why_ ?"

"Because she is, Sansa."

"At her age, why couldn't she just have an abortion? Why not get her hands on some emergency contraceptives? They are over the counter now -"

"Sansa." Robb shifted uncomfortably, while he gripped his napkin. "You asked if I wanted to talk about last night, so that is what I am doing. Remember the Manderlys are strict Catholics. And the Catholic Church is also clear. All life is sacred -"

"Tell Mom that," she muttered, pushing her plate away. "I'm full. So, you offered spiritual guidance and assurance to the Manderly girl, yes? Prayed for her safety and the safety of her unborn child. Poor thing, I cannot imagine being so young and having a terrible pregnancy. I can understand you must have had a rough night and I'm sorry if I sounded heartless or selfish. I don't know how you can rest your head with all that you have on your shoulders."

"God never gives you more than you can handle. I have broad shoulders."

"Yes, you do." The sweet smile returned. "I know you do."

Robb tried to finish his meal under Sansa's watchful gaze. Her mentioning their mother briefly in obvious disgust surprised him, but not because he thought their mother was more than the ruthless, society-driven, image-is-everything woman that she was. It was due to the fact that Sansa was always close to her. Adored her even, and it was mutual. Sansa was Catelyn Stark's prized daughter. What had changed? Arya, Bran, and Rickon not once mentioned an falling out between Sansa and their mother. Still, it was a fleeting thought, soon replaced by the sensation of slender, heated hands clutching at his shoulders, holding on as if for dear life. Hands that seemingly burned his flesh through to the bone as he -

"Robb." 

"Hmm?" Worried she might be able to read his mind, he absentmindedly polished off the last bite of his dinner even though he didn't feel like finishing. What he felt like doing was wrong and he would beg forgiveness on his knees tonight before bed. "Don't concern yourself over it, Sansa. It comes with the vocation. All I can do is be there for someone as God wants me to."

"Do you believe God wanted you to become a priest? I thought when you started college all you wanted was to become an FBI agent or a Computer Forensics Specialist."

"This is where I belong, Sansa," he said quietly while his insides churned. She was unknowingly leading them towards a discussion to open Pandora's box and he had to remain focused. "This is home to me now. Not just my relationship with God, and doing God's work, but also living here. Moletown is home. I've had a few chances to leave for a larger church but as they were options, I declined. My parishoners are my family."

He didn't say the last part unkindly but he worried all the same as he finally stared into her. She didn't seem to take offense to his words and she shuffled her silverware and plate, dropping her napkin in the center and draining the rest of her ice water. Every movement was deft, so graceful. When her eyes met his they were half-lidded and startingly dark. 

"I don't blame you for wanting to claim Moletown as your home, Robb. It's very friendly and community-driven. Everyone here has made me feel welcome. Which is why I've decided to stay."

"Oh? For how much longer?" Somewhere deep inside he started to panic. A visit, ,maybe a few days, it was all he could handle of her. Wasn't his maturbation, his imagining the smell and taste of her, his eyeful of her glorious body, wasn't it all just enough? He was barely holding it together by the grace of God and with the reminder that she was only staying for a few days before traveling to the west coast. She said she wanted to make nice, yes, and they were at least talking, which is more than they've done in a decade, but he couldn't help but feel she needed to go and go soon. Could he take a week or two? Could he even take one more night? Tonight?

"Robb, I meant permanently. I want to make Moletown my home, too." She smiled prettily, reaching up to smooth back her hair. "I mean, Podrick showed me around and I love what I see. I'm already making friends, too. Margaery has been so lovely to me, I think she might become the best friend a girl could ask for. And Podrick, well, I've never met a sweeter man in all my life. Even the old ladies from the church are so nice, inviting me to join them when they have their Prayer Shawl meetings and such."

Nausea flooded his senses but he tried to remain passive. He did not hear her correctly, did he? Yes, yes he did.

"Sansa -" He knew she detected panic in his voice. He heard it ring clear but at least the NO was screaming in his head only. No. _No_.

"Oh, Robb, don't worry. I am already looking into an apartment. Unfortunately the one I want is at The Grove Apartments on the other side of town, and they aren't completed yet. Podrick took me through the complex, said they wouldn't be ready to live in until mid-November. September is almost over, so, its only a month and a half. I meant to ask you if I could stay here just until I can move in. I already submitted my application today online while you were at the church."

He couldn't speak so she continued.

"Before you ask about a job, I've already sent resumes out as well. Even to Denver; if needs be I'll commute to the big bad city. Actually it would be nice to start a practice here. I don't think Moletown has a psychologist -" She paused and the look he was giving he must have not been favorable because she suddenly looked contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't really want to spring it on you, but your comment about feeling like this was home really struck me. Winterfell has been leaving a bad taste in my mouth for the past few years. Maybe a less busy place is exactly what I need."

"You want to live in Moletown." A stupid thing to say as he stared at her. This was a test in a most cruel form. God was giving him this to prove his compassion, his tolerance, his strength.

"Yes. Will you be so kind as to allow me to stay? Just until the apartment is ready? I mean, if you don't want me here I can always go back to the hotel. I don't know if they have weekly rates, but I can call and find out. But if I can stay, I'll clean up the house -not that you're here much to make a mess anyway - and I'll cook, too. Take on the household duties. I won't be any trouble, I promise. And maybe I can be a sister to you again, and you a brother to me. No matter what is in the past, we should move forward. Forgive and move on. Maybe build a relationship from scratch? I've missed you, Robb."

"Does Mom know you're here?" The curiosity was sharp as he listened to her plea. "Dad?"

"No." She stood up with her dishes and walked over to his side. She was inches away from touching him and he looked up at her. She turned her head away. "I didn't lie, you know. I said I meant to travel the States, to see what was out there. This was just a happy coincidence, really, me liking this town as much as I do."

He realized she was waiting on his reply but he struggled, so she snapped up his dishes to place on top of hers, carrying them to the sink. Her back was towards him as she started to hand wash the plates in silence. Beautiful even as she performed a menial task, her updo showing off her slender neck. Could he tell her no, demand she leave and never come back? Could he tell her yes, ask her to stay, and have her in his life again? She seemed genuine, so very much like the teenaged Sansa he had loved. Lusted for. Hated. He wanted her to be that seventeen year old again but he didn't want to be that twenty year old now. 

Move forward.

Standing, his legs felt like lead as he pushed in his chair and walked towards her. He was so close he could smell her faint perfume and he could see the constriction of her veins in her neck. Before he could say anything she turned to face him and he immediately lowered his eyes.

"Yes, Sansa, you can stay here until your place is finished. In fact, if there is anything you need, let me know. Furniture, appliances, dishes. I can start asking around now. And I can have Podrick and Bronn help me when it's time to move anything in for you." He felt his chest crushing inwards but outwardly he smiled.

"Thank you, Robb."

Robb raised his eyes only to lower them slightly to look into hers. He was struck by the vulnerability in them and couldn't stop from reaching up to wipe at her cheek where the sauce had stubbornly stuck. It stayed with his light swipe so he increased the pressure of his middle three fingers. Her skin was soft, pliant, warm, inviting, and wiped clean of any food particle. He meant to pull away, to show her what he collected on his fingertips as if there was a need to valiate him touching her, but his fingers had minds of their own as they traced lightly across to the start of her bottom lip instead. 

It rushed over him then, the memory, the moment in time where something was conveyed and understood and then destroyed in a matter of seconds. The obscene pleasure and hate dissolved into something more real, more honest and raw, something that touched them both so deeply, leaving them more bare than their skins pressed together; rendering them more connected than their bodies joined in passion. A moment so honest and open and so fleeting; it was gone in a blink of an eye. Just as gone as Sansa was so that now he stood in the kitchen alone.

Alone with his memories. Alone with the sin.

He acquiesced to her in the name of God and his forgiveness, but he felt as if the Devil had won the day.


	9. Better Than The Boyfriend (Flashback)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback 10 years ago for the entire chapter, so I did not use italics.
> 
> Two updates in two days. It's like a record or something. :) Enjoy.

(Winterfell, 10 Years Ago)

 _What the fuck_.

Robb pulled into the driveway next to the little blue sportscar and cursed. 

It wasn't as if he was in the best of moods anyway. Why he always relented and agreed to go out with Jon and be his wingman was beyond him. Sure, his cousin was more like a brother and he knew Jon was bored on Christmas break from college, but Jon favored the bars more than he did. Besides, it was a sacrilege that a twenty year old college student should spend the weekend night at home doing nothing, and he had been faced with an empty house. Bran and Rickon were spending the night with their friends, Arya was at her friend Shireen's house, and Sansa was sleeping over at Jeyne Poole's. Mom and Dad were at some charity fundraiser/early Holiday celebration, which left Robb alone and bored. When Jon texted him to meet him at the bar he figured why the hell not. After a couple of beers he realized his heart wasn't in it, so when Jon hooked up with some overly assertive blonde, he took his cue and left early.

Well, Sansa was _supposed_ to be at Jeyne's.

He recognized that car.

Harry Fucking Hardyng, That little shit Sansa had been casually dating for a little while now. He knew she was still seeing him at the start of the Holiday break, just after Thanksgving, but he thought that would have changed. He thought she might have broken up with him after she had her brother's fingers and tongue in her cunt. It was a valid enough reason, wasn't it? Surely his sweet, demure, honest Sansa couldn't continue to deceive her tool of a boyfriend. Robb knew she wanted him, wanted to be with him, even if she couldn't say it out loud. He knew her like the back of his hand even though the closeness they once had lessened when he started college. Maybe it was a good thing how their sibling bond was weaker now.

Robb was not surprised at their newfound situation; it wasn't all that new, really. Ever since Sansa started developing an interest in boys she seemed to want to test her appeal on him, and as she shed her child's body for curves, he always let her. It started as a little flirtation, a little game, the shy girl teasing and seeking affirmation that she was beautiful and desirable. Sure, he should have been a decent brother and told her that her worth was not in male approval but her own, but he enjoyed her innocent yet sexually tinged games. Somwhere he knew he should feel sick or ashamed but all he felt was flattered and proud. He thought she was enjoying their agreement as well, evident in her smiles and blushes and touches.

Then she started dating boys.

He was helpless to stop it, being away at college. It wasn't like what he and Sansa were doing could really lead to anywhere and the rational part of him conceded that she was taking the natural path of a high school girl. Yet still he couldn't deny the jealous streak and he thought avoiding her was the best idea for them both. He was careful not to be alone with her on the rare occasions where he did come home and he could tell she was hurt and confused at his sudden distant behaviour. To further sever the bond he starting fucking his way through the college campus, building up his skills and reputation as well as his ego. His little sister might be off limits but he could show her what she was missing, even if she never knew what he was doing.

This time around Jon all but begged for him to come home for the break and even though he hadn't in two years, he relented. His old room was kept the same and he eased back into family life, but still tried to keep Sansa at arm's length. She was even more lovely at seventeen, and now with a steady boyfriend named Harry Fucking Hardyng. It took seeing him hanging around her once at the house to light something inside him, something fierce and posessive and angry. Harry had all her little smiles now, all her sweet words and flirtatious touches. He was probably fucking her, too. He didn't want to picture it but he did, that tow-headed little runt shoving his cock inside of her, defiling her, using her. And she let him.

It was then that he decided to re-establish their bond and he found her all too willing to reciporcate. Once again it seemed she was smiling just for him, wanting to spend time with him, and it was a sweet balm to his wounds yet Harry still lingered. To prove he was better than her boyfriend he looked everywhere for the object of her desire, Mr. Happy, an annoyingly pink bear she desperately wanted to complete her collection. Track one down he did, leaving it with a tender note under its chin on her bed. 

It was her own fault she barged in on him while he was getting ready to go out on a double date with Jon. She should have knocked. He had been feeling less than generous; not wanting to be fixed up, not wanting to go out, not wanting his sister to be in love with some stupid little asshole who would never appreciate her. She caught him examining himself naked in his mirror. He had been looking at his body, comparing himself favorably against Sansa's boyfriend but realizing no matter how much more in shape he was, or better looking, Harry had all he needed to win in the fact that he was not her blood relation. Frustrated with that fact and shocked to be caught by the very reason he stood feeling inferior, he took his feelings out on her. But he saw it. He could see there was something in the way she drank him in with her eyes, eyes that went straight to his cock which had hardened instantly. Maybe he shouldn't have taunted her like he did but his jealousy and arousal drove him to it. He would never force himself on her but he wanted to fuck her right there up against the wall. It would have been so easy to do. He saw it in her eyes. He'd seen that look so many times before in other girls.

She wanted him. 

She wanted him to fuck her. 

Coming home after a dull night chugging down beers with Jon and kissing some brunette in a corner to try to wipe his mind clean of his sister, he found her on his bed. Masturbating on his pillow. It was an invitation straight from hell and the alcohol fortified him. Even as dizzy as he was he could savor kissing her, touching her, making her climax. He had meant only to use her bear but his fingers needed to know how she felt. She resisted at first but she was so damn wet and when she looked at him, there was more than just fear behind her eyes. She wanted to be dominated. She wanted to lose herself and not feel guilty about wanting him, and he gave her what she craved. He called her his whore. She was. He knew she would always give in to him. He just wasn't prepared for her to bolt from his room like she did. He fought all his instinct to follow her, and laid there instead like stone; rock hard and breathless, taking himself in hand for his own release. 

His sweet little Sansa avoided him for over a week after that, to his hurt and bewilderment. He saw an opportunity to slip into the bathroom while she had been taking a shower, listening for the water to turn off. Lucky break for him she had stepped out swathed in a pink towel. Seeing her wet and knowing she was naked underneath was enough to break down and demand she touch him. The feeling of her hand expertly stroking his shaft upset him even as it drove him wild with need. It was easier to drop to his knees and feast on her wet, warm cunt than to face her, and it was a special triumph to make her cum so quickly while worked himself to his own finish. Her hands. Her hands in his curls pressing him closer. It was an affirmation, it was proof she wanted him, and it was he who left her behind as he sauntered out the door.

He was sure that she was his, all his. 

Now he was parked next to Harry's car.

Harry was inside the house with Sansa.

Alone. They were alone. Sansa knew no one was home. She _knew_.

It was a betrayal. After what they did, what they shared. How could she want to be with Harry Hardyng ?

He didn't even know what he was doing, not really, as he made his way into the house. He could hear the TV in the den and for a fleeting moment he was relieved; they weren't in her bedroom. His relief evaporated when he entered the family room to find Harry sprawled over Sansa on the couch, his jeans half-pulled down while Sansa's skirt was hiked up to her waist. The noise from the TV and Harry's oddly loud grunts must have drowned out any sounds he had made coming home, because Harry was fingering a silent Sansa with vigor as she clutched his pathetic excuse of a dick. 

Hurt, disgust, anger, and jealousy mingled in a haze of fury. Everything became a blur in front of him before he grabbed Harry by the hair to pull him off of Sansa, who screamed while scrambling to pull down her skirt and pull up her panties, backing up into the end of the couch and freezing. Harry yelped, tumbling to the floor and knocking a half-filled pizza box from the coffee table as his arms flailed wildly before he grappled at his jeans. 

"Robb! Robb, stop!" He heard her plea but didn't care as he dragged Harry, grasping his head in a lock, half-pulling, half dragging him out into the hall and to the door. His strength was in his rage as he punched him in the face and shoved him down to the porch floor. Disregarding his wailing and threats to press charges, Robb stormed back into the den long enough to snap up Harry's keys - avoiding looking at Sansa - and tossed them at the bleeding kid.

Back in the den he raced to grab Sansa by her wrist to yank her to her feet and she whimpered a little. She was flushed in her cheeks and looked up at him with those wide, blue eyes. Her mouth trembled slightly as her brow furrowed as if she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or be angry. Her pink blouse was half-buttoned and her bra was exposed, crooked. White lace. White, so pure. This was Sansa, who couldn't harm a fly. Sansa, so lovely and sweet, everyone's darling. _Even his_.

Sansa, who was lustily riding Harry Hardying's fingers while jerking him off.

Growling, he latched onto her arm. Half pulling and half-dragging just as he did with Harry he forced her out of the den into the hall and to the stairs. She pushed back then, protesting.

"What the _hell_ , Robb? Let go of me!" She kicked him in the shin none too gently but he released her for a moment. It seemed to calm her down so he took the advantage to scoop her up and throw her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than his college backpack. She shrieked and struggled and squirmed all the way up the steps but he was stronger and more angry, with more intent and determination than she could ever have. He carried her into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind them before depositing her on the toilet seat. 

He turned his back on her to search for a wash cloth and he heard her try to make her escape. Of course she wanted to run. Run and hide, pretend nothing happened between them, take refuge in her room and cloak her little shameful secret. He wouldn't let her. He would make her face him, face what they did and what they were, but he couldn't do it with Harry's stink on her. He could smell the cheap cologne.

"You're not going anywhere, Sansa," he growled, grabbing her by the arm. "Not until I wipe that stupid little shit's smell off of you."

He was expected a word of protest but oddly she stilled. He kept his hands harsh but perfunctory as he yanked off her blouse and bra, and unzipped her skirt. She didn't kick at him when he slid off her panties, only crossed her arms over her breasts. He had never seen her completely naked before and she was a vision, pale and soft, and he couldn't look away even as he grappled for the washcloth. In spite of his anger and hatred his cock hardened, which only made him more furious. He shouldn't want her. She didn't want him so why would his body still want her. He could have any girl he wanted. Any girl. _Any but her_.

Her eyes tore from his to look at what he was doing and she moved then, but not fast enough as he caught her by her wrist with a grip of steel. She bit her lip and blanched but did not cry out, did not utter a word as he clumsily held the cloth under the liquid soap dispenser, pumping several drops before turning on the water. It was nearly scalding hot and steaming when he threw the washcloth under the stream, turning his hand pink with heat. When he grabbed it, that was when Sansa acted and he felt her tiny fist slamming into his chest. Weak and innefectual she was hitting him, finally finding her voice.

"Damn you, Robb! What the fuck are you doing? You're being an asshole!" In response he brought the cloth to her breasts, scrubbing away Harry's saliva, Harry's scent. "Robb! You're -you're -"

He slid the cloth down to her belly for a moment before shoving it between her legs. She whimpered then and it only encouraged him to scrub roughly between her legs. He could feel her tense and squeeze her legs together.

"Do you think I want to smell some stupid little shit's greasy fingers on your cunt? Do you?" He moved faster, even dipping the corner just inside of her. He was stunned to feel her thrusting up awkwardly into his hand as if seeking out the friction. He had meant to give her a thorough cleaning, nothing more, but her body's reaction shocked him.

"You want to cum like this, don't you?" He forced himself to laugh, as if he found it amusing when all it was doing was turning him on, weakening him. She said nothing, her eyes closed and her teeth still clamping down on her lower lip. It inflamed him to see her so restrained, as if she was hellbent on denying she found any pleasure in what he was doing. Frustrated, he let go of her wrist yet she didn't run. She only opened her eyes to stare at him until he grabbed a fistful of her thick tousled hair pulling her naked body close to him. He didn't let up on his grip as he worked between her thighs, the cloth slipping in his fingers to where he could feel her swollen folds. She struggled then but his hold on her was iron clad and she gave up too easily. Rather than escape she surrendered to him, but it wasn't enough. He heard a moan escape from her throat, raspy and guilty. She tried to cut it off but it was too late as her hands reached up to grip his shoulders. 

"Is that a yes, Sansa? Or a no?" He pulled the cloth away from her. "I'm not clear on that. I'm never really clear on what you really want." Her nails dug into his shoulders as she turned her head away.

"No, Sansa, we won't play this game. _Not tonight_." He threw the washcloth to the floor before picking her up again, this time crushing her to his chest and racing out of the bathroom and into his room. He managed to throw her on the bed before backtracking to close the door.

Sansa scrambled off the bed but he blocked the door. It didn't stop her from trying to maneuver around him for the doorknob and he latched onto her arm. 

"You're not leaving this room. Not until -"

"Let me go, Robb! Why are you doing this!" He saw it then in her eyes. She didn't want him to let her go. She didn't truly want to run away. It was all over her face, the way she stood, the sound of her quickening breath. Her swallow was audible.

"What the fuck kind of question is that? I found you with that little prick's fingers in you and your hand on his dick -"

"He's my _boyfriend_ !" She flung the words to him, finding a thread of defiance somewhere. "And it felt good! You're my _brother_ , Robb!"

Reflectively he raised his other hand as if to slap her and she flinched. He stopped mid-air, checking himself, clenching his open palm into a fist before lowering it to his side. His blood boiled with anger. 

"What are you doing to do, hit me?"

"No. I'm going to _fuck_ you."

His hand unclenched to grab her head and before she could say anything he kissed her. She struggled for only a moment before she responded, moving her mouth against his, accepting his tongue. She was breathing faster, harder, trying to match his forceful lips. He has never kissed her this way before and it heightened his need. He broke away to sweep her up in his arms and carry her back to his bed, this time joining her, pinning her down by her hands. There was no need to secure her; he felt her whole body tense but she made no move to escape.

She was beautiful beneath him.

For a moment she stared into him but then squeezed her eyes shut, throwing her head to the side as if she were bracing for him to strike her. The veins in her neck protruded with the stain and he dove in, licking, biting, sucking, stopping only to frantically pull his t-shirt over his head and discard it. The feeling of his bare chest pressing down on hers nearly had him on the edge already. He wanted to draw it out, make it something memorable. He wanted to erradicate all thoughts of Harry in her mind and he knew he could do it, even if to her he was only her sick brother.

Robb moved down the length of her body, shoving her legs apart so he could bury his face there; he did well to scrub her; the only scents that remained were of faint soap and her own arousal. At first lick he felt her legs tense and she tried to scoot backwards from his mouth; he would not let her get away from him this time. One hand reached up to press her down on her abdomen, holding her there, while the other snaked up to her breast, his fingertips squeezing an already hardened nipple. She moaned low but her legs still strained. He glanced up at her; her face was still turned into her pillow and a hand was jammed into her mouth, the other twisting in her long hair. 

_She wanted to feel as if she were trapped. She liked it. She wanted him to take control_.

Her cunt swelled in no time under his expert tounge and lips; there was no inclination to be gentle as he mercilessly sucked her small but engorged clit in between his teeth, eliciting tiny cries from her. She was sopping wet, drenching his mouth, tasting better than any other girl he'd ever gone down on. She excited him more than anyone ever had, a desire tinged with violence and bitterness even as he could feel her edging towards and orgasm. He had her on the cusp but pulled away, licking secrections off of his lips. His hand left her nipple to fumble with his belt and jeans zipper, snaking out of the last of his clothing and his other left her stomach long enough to throw the jeans somewhere across the room.

He returned to the apex between her thighs to shove two long fingers inside of her, the warmth and slickness clinging, while administering short, teasing licks on her clit. He was rewarded with a hesitant hand on his head that clawed into his curls. She was whimpering now, sighing and gasping, all the while trying to bite back her sounds as he fucked her harder with his fingers. Harry hadn't driven her to make any noise like this. She was building up again, her hips thrusting freely into his hand now. His fingers were not enough this time, not for him.

Within seconds he yanked his fingers from her and before she could protest he was above her, his hand turning her head on the pillow so she was looking up at him. He was so used to reading her eyes and he could see the want in them but also the disgust. The self-hatred or hatred for him. The fear. All she had no do was tell him no. One word, one short word she could utter and he would stop pressing his swollen, demanding cock up against her sweet flesh. She shrank away from him and he felt her squirm. Instantly he grabbed her hands in his hand pressed them down into the mattress on either side of her head. She had no means of escape and he knew he didn't want her to. Her mouth opened and they stared into each other's eyes. He struggled to hold on to his anger, his jealousy. It was easier to feed into it than to latch onto a feeling he did not want to surface -

He pushed his way into her, burying himself to the hilt. He groaned at the constriction, the heat surrounding him as he was fully sheathed in her. She cried out sharply then and he felt her hands and wrists straining under his grip. Her eyes closed and her mouth trembled as he moved, thrusting hard and fast and sure. He would fuck Harry out of her head, he knew he could do it; he was stronger, hotter, bigger, better. He felt her long legs wrap around his waist and it spurred him to move faster, harder, deeper. Each stroke prompted a cry, little cries still surpressed. It was driving him insane and he was sure Harry never fucked her like this.

The feel of her, her whole body shaking, her legs tightening, it maddened him. The sight of her resisting yet not resisting, her submitting to him was all he wanted. The friction of his cock and his thrusts angled just right, combined with her already overly stimulated state brought her to her orgasm and he felt her walls pulse as she arched up into him, crying out. Crying out with tears spilling. Tears of shame. Denial. Robb knew no shame or denial. He only knew her. _His Sansa_. 

Her climax over, it seemed Sansa recovered some of her panic and she pushed her free hand up into his chest, even as her legs still clung to his waist. He refused to let her go. He had her now. She was his. Her hand burned into his chest, digging into his chest hair, but then suddenly smoothed upwards. Her slender hand wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him in and she kissed him soundly. it shocked him, this voluntary action, this affirmation, and he drowned in it. Releasing her other hand he wove fingers into her hair, clutching her head so she could not take the kiss away. It was then where he found his release, groaning into her mouth with her name garbled on his lips. He spilled into her, never stopping his thrusts until he was completely drained and even beyond that.

Gasping for air, he reared up, hovering above her. She finally looked him in the eyes again, her kiss-swollen lips parted, her tears stopped. The gravity of what they had just done was taking hold, but Robb could not find it in him to regret. 

A gentle feeling overwhelmed him as his fingers found the side of her face. A small strand of auburn was matted there and he caressed it, wiping it to the side before tracing down to the corner of her lips. This was always meant to be, this was who they were and what they meant to each other. He imagined staying like this, joined as one and locked in passion. His jealousy and anger faded, leaving only a feeling of -

He felt her tense underneath him at his touch. The muscles in her cheek pulled tight. It seemed like a look of horror and disgust settled in her eyes and it was like a bucket of cold water in his face. She wasn't slack with love and passion. She was taut with regret. He decided to mask his hurt.

"So, is your own brother a better fuck than your boyfriend?" He sneered down at her. "I told you, you're a little whore for me, aren't you? You're not a bad fuck either, San."

His words prompted kicks and shoves, and in his weakened state she was able to disengage their bodies. His cock started to shrink at the losss of warmth and being caught off guard by her sudden aggression made it easy for her to claw away from him, stumbling off the bed. In a flash she was gone, flinging open his door and not looking back. His instinct kicked in and he raced after her, catching her in the hallway and shoving her up against the wall.

She hit at him then, pounding his chest with fists that didn't inflict much external pain. 

"Let me go! I hate you, Robb! I hate you! How could you? How -"

He grabbed her arms and pinned them to the wall.

"You wanted it, Sansa. Deny it to me all you want but you wanted my mouth on your cunt and my cock inside of you. Act like the pretty little good girl you want everyone to think you are. You're so sweet, sister. So sweet and innocent and you have everyone fooled. Everyone but me. I know you. I know what you really are. You can't deny it and you can't hide it from me, can you? You don't want to hide it from me. You want me to force it out of you -"

"Fuck you!" She screamed at him then, bringing up her knee to slam into his groin, making him see flashes of red and moan in pain as he stumbled back, enabling her escape. He crumbled to the floor, grasping at his genitals.He heard her bedroom door slam and even through the agony he grinned.

 _There's my girl_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moodboard by sansafeels! Thank you~
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> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/153108798@N02/29111624068/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 


	10. Hell Is Knitting And A Tattoo

_Dear God, this is my hell. My absolute hell_.

Sansa considered repenting for this slice of agony but she abandoned the thought quickly as her nimble fingers worked on the crochet work. After all, this hell was of her own making and it was vital to her plans. Still, it did not mean she had to like it, even as a fake smile painted her face.

"Oh, Sansa darling, you do just fabulous work." The nasally tone of Mrs. Manderly annoyed her even as it gave a compliment. "How did you lean to be so good at it?"

"My mother." She worked the knitting needles with the green yarn, bored out of her gourd but hanging in there. Briefly she considered faking sick and leaving early, but reminded herself Robb was supposed to make an appearance.

"Oh, Father Robb has never really talked about her. Really, Father Robb never talks much about your family. He always seems more interested in his little flock and their families. Oh, but I didn't mean to say that to take anything away from you, my dear."

"No offense taken, Mrs. Manderly."

The old bat had been ecstatic when Sansa informed the Prayer Shawl Circle that the shawl she was making was for her granddaughter Wylla. It scored her points with all the gossipy ladies; Mrs. Manderly the elder, Mrs. Manderly the younger, Mrs. Karstark and Tyrell and Martell and Umber and Glover. The only woman around her own age was the spun-sugar sweetheart Myrcella which made this whole endeavor worse. She already missed Podrick, who had taken her out for a nice dinner date before dropping her off at the church. The man knew how to kiss. He received bonus points for using his jacket to cover her head as he walked -or, rather, jogged - her inside while it rained cats and dogs. She almost bailed out on this drudgery in favor of a rainy evening makeout session in Pod's old car, but tonight wasn't about Podrick.

It was all about her getting in good with the ladies of Robb's church. She could suck it up once a week and since she wanted to stay in Moletown, Monday evenings now meant this painful experiencehad to be endured. It was her first evening with them, nestled in the Church's social room. It was a comfortable receiving area with overstuffed couches and chairs with a large round table off to the side and a kitchenette tucked away behind a wall. This was where members of the church had small meetings and gatherings and Sansa had chosen to sink into a comfortable sage green chair to prevent anyone from sitting beside her. She might scream if she had to share a couch with the heavily perfumed Mrs. Karstark, a hulking and overbearing woman with greying hair and a boisterous voice. Sansa could literally taste the old lady perfume from her when she leaned in to accept the overzealous hug. It killed any appetite she might have had for the coffee cake or cookies the ladies had brought in to snack on.  
Everything was going as planned and she should at least be in a good mood over that. Robb had accepted her pretty little performances so far this past week. They almost settled into a rather normal,compatible sibling relationship. All he could see was his younger sister settling into a domestic trade for free room and board and making an effort to let their past be just that, the past. She honestly thought she had her work cut out for her but Robb seemed to lose all of his assertiveness and power and charismatic personality when he took up being a man of the cloth. So handsome yet so one-dimensional. He could be a carbon copy of most of the men she hooked up with in Winterfell and even though it was making her intentions easier, she was almost disappointed.

Almost.

Last Monday night she knew she sparked something in him, just as she knew her little act with Margaery would. It was all over his face at the spaghetti dinner and she had seen the panic in his eyes when she deliberately asked if he wanted to talk about what happened. Of course she meant for him to think it was seeing her naked and getting tongue-fucked and it was a small delight to see him squirm before she relented and asked about the hospital. She knew it it then, how she would win in the end. Her brother was not unaffected by her. He also fell into her spaghetti sauce trap so easily. She wanted him to voluntarily touch her. Not a damn lame-ass hug in front of people that was obligatory and for show. No. She wanted an honest touch driven by a private need. Something to make him think. Something to make him feel. Unless he had changed the core of who he was she knew two missed spots of sauce on her face would stir something. If not desire than at least irritation that she missed a spot or two when wiping. Coupled with the shocking news of her permanent stay, the results were more than pleasing to her.

But then the feeling happened.

For a moment he was so close she could breathe him in, feel the movements of his body, and for that second in time she was vulnerable. His fingers painted her cheek and she remembered. Oh, she remembered like it was yesterday how he touched her after he fucked her. How she recoiled from the shame of wanting more of that touch, of his love, and how he proved he cared nothing for her feelings when he taunted her. No, he had only cared about taking what he wanted. He hadn't loved her. He only preyed upon her own desires and used them as he used her. She let him. She let him because of who he was and who she was -

"Oh, Wylla will absolutely love it." Myrcella's singsong voice pierced her daydreaming. "And I love how it's gender neutral -""It matches her hair," Sansa joked sweetly, to which the ladies snickered. The green was only half of her blonde head, due to not being able to have it dyed while pregnant. "I thought it was a cute touch."

"So, Sansa, I couldn't help but notice Podrick Payne dropping you off tonight." Mrs. Karstark laid her knitting in her lap. " I must say he is a very polite young man. Shy. I will tell you that even though the man has a criminal record he is a good catch. Are you two courting?"

"Courting! Goodness, this isn't the pioneer days!" Mrs. Manderly, plump with ruddy cheeks and thick glasses, scooted closer to Sansa. "You just ignore her, dear. Mr. Karstark is quite the bore so she needs to compensate by taking notice of an attractive love connection -"

Before there was a Manderly-Karstark quibble, Myrcella interjected.

"Podrick is such a sweet man. A gentleman is so hard to find these days. You won't have to worry about him mistreating you, Sansa. Someone as sweet and pretty and you deserves someone like Pod."

"Thank you, Myrcella -"

"Please, call me Cella. All of my friends do." 

Sansa would love nothing better than to claw out those soft green eyes out of that flawless face but she smiled.

"Thank you, Cella. I do enjoy Podrick's company."

"Well, Father Robb seems to think a lot of him, and I am sure he approves of Podrick dating his little sister. Record aside, he is a catch." Karstark repeated herself and Sansa knew she was fishing for some voluntary information but Sansa was in no mood to placate her.

"I agree, Podrick is one in a million." It was all she was offering up and the group easily slid into another conversation of interest. One of the parishioners was sneaking around on her husband with her brother-in-law, but of course they didn't have proof, but one could tell just by the looks they gave each other. Wasn't it just simply terrible? And what about -

Myrcella left her seat to walk over to Sansa, perching on the arm of her chair. She leaned over and whispered into her ear and Sansa found it as bothersome as a gnat.

"You would think this is the gossip hour and not a charitable and selfless group effort! Let's go get some coffee!" She yanked at her arm and Sansa reluctantly stood, placing her project gingerly on the seat. She'd rather listen to mundane gossip than spend girl chatting time in the kitchenette with Myrcella, but she wanted Myrcella to like her. Trust her.

It would make everything so much easier to have Robb's biggest cheerleader in her web.

"Please don't listen to them, Sansa, they all just don't realize sometimes what they are saying." Myrcella fumbled for a cup in the cupboard above the single sink. "If you are seeing Podrick, then that is your own business. He's a wonderful man. Very compassionate and caring. A real sweeheart. Always respectful."

"Like my brother?" 

"Well, yes, very much like Father Robb. Minus the whole celibate priest thing. Podrick is an avid member of the Church but has no intentions of living like a priest."

Sansa gritted her teeth even as she smiled and shook her head no to Myrcella's offer of coffee. The blonde confection leaned back into the countertop, her pink lips sipping from the black mug. She did not miss the softer tone in her voice and she wondered if it was over Podrick or Robb.

"Have you ever dated Podrick? I would appreciate some insight on -"

"Oh, no, not me. Maybe if I was available I would be proud of being with someone like Pod, but my heart already belongs to someone else. It would be unfair."

"So you have a boyfriend?" 

"No. I mean, he's in my life but not like that."

Sansa felt ill. She knew she couldn't hide her emotions from reaching her face and she tried to turn away but Myrcella grabbed her hand. It was soft and weak and she wanted to swat it away.

"Sansa, it's not a boyfriend I'm talking about. It's God. I've devoted myself to God and the Church."

"What?"

"Ever since I was young I felt I had a higher calling. I've always felt the presence of God in my life and I knew whatever I did, I wanted God to be a part if it. Being a Church Administrator might not seem like a lofty goal, but I feel I can do some good with my job. Father Robb has really been a godsend, too. He encourages me to follow wherever God leads me."

Sansa blinked hard and tried to smile and think of something clever to say but all she could think of was how crazy Myrcella was. How she was just two scoops of absolute crazy and she felt relieved. Still, to this blonde bimbo Robb was a form of God, no doubt, and it wouldn't be the first time a faithful parishioner had gone down on her knees in reverence and worship -

"That's - that's really nice... Cella. I think you should do what makes you happy." _Except my brother_."But there hasn't been any man that you've loved? You're very beautiful. Men should be tripping over each other to ask you out."

"Oh, I've had boyfriends before. The last one, Trystane, he wanted to marry me. Rather, he proposed to me right after I told him I was saving myself for marriage. I didn't accept. I felt he only wanted to marry me to sleep with me, and that's not what I want. Besides, he wasn't Catholic."

Sansa was glad she passed on the coffee because she would have choked on it.

"You're a virgin? At your age?"

It fell out before she could stop herself but Myrcella didn't seem to take offense. She only smiled and shrugged her slight shoulders.

"I'm - I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I shouldn't have said that. It's just that -"

"No one waits for marriage anymore, right? It's okay, Sansa. I get that reaction a lot. Just like Margaery gets a reaction when she tells someone she was fourteen when she lost her virginity."

"I was seventeen." Sansa lowered her eyes. "Old by today's standards, I guess."

"Age doesn't matter as long as it was right for you."

Sansa tensed and turned away from the soft green eyes of innocence and understanding. How was she supposed to respond to that? It was none of this woman's business what had gone on her in personal life at any point in time. Prying, sanctimonious, smug little bitch. How sweet would Myrcella be if she knew Robb's own sister fucked him? How he had his tongue in her cunt and her tongue around his cock? Would this little Cella be so eager to become fast friends? Would she forgive Robb? 

The urge to spill was hot on her tongue but Sansa resisted. Myrcella would not believe her anyway. No one would believe her, not without some kind of evidence -

"Father Robb! You showed! I daresay I am surprised. None of us have any shawls completed."

"I apologize, Mrs. Karstark. Maybe I was just in the mood for some coffee cake and cookies?"

"Well, don't you have your sister cooking at home for you now? Surely she could bake you some sweets and far outdo anything I have ever made, if she can bake as well as she knits. Have you seen this?"

Myrcella placed her coffee cup on the counter and Sansa was fast behind her as they made their way back to the receiving area. Her heart was in her mouth and she cursed herself for it. Robb stood with her green unfinished shawl in his hands. He was dressed in street clothes. Black jeans, blue v-neck tee that clung to him.It must still be raining outside, from the looks of him, his hair looking even more curly from the wet. It was jacket weather but he wasn't wearing one. Typical.

Sansa stayed a step behind Myrcella, observing the way he looked at her knitting. He seemed stunned, lost in thought, as his fingers caressed the material.

"Isn't she thoughtful? It's for Wylla." Grandmother Manderly sighed. "Wylla does miss her green hair, and I promised to take her to Ros's Beauty Shop after the baby is born -"

"Sansa did this." It came out soft, a statement more than a question.

"Father Robb! You're so wet! Let me get a dish towel from the kitchenette!" Myrcella pivoted to retrieve a towel, leaving Sansa standing alone. "It still must be raining pretty heavily -"

"Be thankful for the rain now, Myrcella. Another month and we might get our first early snowfall. They are predicting a long, harsh winter again this year."

Sansa did not miss the gentle tone of his voice when addressing his secretary or the way he smiled in Myrcella's direction before his eyes flitted over to her. His grin faded as he handed her the shawl.

"This is very thoughtful, Sansa."

"Thanks, Robb." 

She accepted it back and darted her eyes over to the group of ladies. They were all sitting there with smiles on their faces, beaming as they worked their own masterpieces. Her insides twisted. They idolized him. Respected him. It was in the way changed their gossipy little attitudes as soon as Robb made his appearance. All she could do was stand and watch as Myrcella started to wipe at Robb's hair with the dishtowel before he yanked it from her, laughing that he could take care of it himself. Her jaw clenched watching the exchange. It was so obvious. So, so obvious. Adding insult to injury was was bossy Mrs. Karstark bounding off to try to serve Robb some cake and coffee, even though he politely declined.

She hated him being so loved. He didn't deserve it. 

"I - I am suddenly not feeling well, I'm sorry, I need to leave. My head is killing me." The lie slipped so easily and believable that immediately the ladies were crooning over her. Some of her resentment dissipiated with the knowledge that she, too, could lie and show a false face and be liked. In truth she needed to escape before she started screaming and attempted to claw out Myrcella's eyes.

"I'm going to see my sister home. Thank you ladies, for doing the Lord's work."

Sansa was shocked when Robb led her out of the room and down the hall, through the corridor and out the front door. It was still raining; a cool, unforgiving downpour that she could taste even as they scurried on the sidewalk path to the house. Thankfully the porch provided some shelter as Robb fumbled with the key. Once inside, Sansa stood in sopping tennis shoes and her thin linen shirt which was clinging stubbornly to her body. Her hair hung down in unattractive strands, clinging to her neck. Not to mention her makeup probably looked like a fright.

Robb shucked off his shoes and socks by the door.

"Wait here, Sansa. I'll get you a towel." He rushed off to the guest half bath and for once in god knows how many years she listened to someone and stayed put. She felt wrong and didn't know why. Even when he rushed back shirtless and handing her a towel while he used his to scrub at his head and wipe down, she just stood there like a complete idiot, watching him. He was muscular but not overtly so. He seemed to have more chest hair than she remembered. It was no longer a small splattering but enough to comb her fingers through. For a moment she longed to place her hand there, place her head over his heart. Just to hear his heartbeat, to know if it was beating as quickly as hers -

"Thanks." She kicked off her shoes and dabbed the towel at her face to hide the image before her but she could still see him in the darkness."You didn't need to nurse me, you know. I don't really have a headache. I kind of lied a little. I couldn't take it anymore."

"I figured as much." 

He said nothing else so Sansa lowered the towel to find him staring at her. Rather, his eyes were sweeping over her and she would have thought it to be very unbrotherly of him until he wrapped his hair up in the towel in a turban style like she always did after a shower. He looked silly but his blue eyes sparkled and his white teeth grinned at her. She had to giggle.

"Sansa, you aren't the only one who can only take the matriarchs in small doses. You were the perfect excuse to cut out early -"

"Oh, so Father Robb Stark isn't so godly after all? Even you are a mere mortal with tolerance limits?"

"I guess so." His face slacked as he ran his hand over his short scruff. "I really do appreciate the thoughtfulness of the prayer shawl. Here, let me toss these in the dryer for you."

Robb swiped up her shoes and turned to make his way to the basement.

"Go ahead and get some dry clothes on. I am thinking maybe we can order supper out tonight? You know, because you have a headache and all."

Sansa's smile faded as he walked away.

He had a tattoo on his back.

Had he meant for her to see them? She could not fathom him being delibrate in taking his shirt off for her to see.

It was a heart centered in the middle, bleeding, with pieces missing, held by a red-haired woman with angel's wings and devil's horns, her nails digging in, jagged cuts where her fingers had scraped. Over the top of the picture was a phrase.

 _My Sweet Little Sansa_.

Without knowing, without thinking, she padded her way through the house to the door of the basement off of the kitchen. It was left open so Sansa slowly descended down the carpeted steps. Robb had the dryer going and had unwrapped his hair. His back was to her as she approached, fiddling with some laundry he no doubt left dormant for days in the dryer. No doubt the noise from their shoes thumping around made him hard of hearing.

It came upon her then. Anger, hate, resentment, indignation. Seeing him there, shirtless by the washer and dryer, made her think- made her remember - and how could she forget? She could see the tattoo more clearly now, the details in the blue eyes and the cascades of long auburn hair. The lettering in pretty scrolling cursive. Devil's horns. Angel's wings. Blood dripping from mouth and fingernails. As if it was _his_ heart that was torn to shreds. As if it was him that was so damaged, so hurt. If he was, then she was too, a thousand times over.

He always had a beautiful back. Smooth, flawless. 

Sexy.

He had no right to still be so beautiful. 

Quickly she unbuttoned her drenched shirt and shrugged it off, clenching it into her fist.

She meant to tap him on the shoulder but instead her fingers caressed up his bare shoulder, wrapping around carefully. His skin was supple and she could feel the tension as he turned to face her. His face was so close to hers, as close as they day he wiped away the spaghetti off her cheek. Her fingertips burned.

"Sansa -" It was a half-whisper, half-gasp.

"Don't you mean _my sweet little Sansa_ ?" Her eyes searched his and found what she was looking for as she held up her shirt. He was trying so very hard to focus on her face. "I wanted you to put this in the dryer, too."

He didn't take it.

"Fine. Move." She pushed at him to throw the shirt in and start the dryer up again. "Nice tattoo, Robb."

Turning around, she noticed him leaving.

"Robb!" She reached out to stop him, grabbing his arm with as much force as she could. Anger bubbled in her as he turned to face her. All cuteness and sweetness and carefully placed words left her. "Don't run away from me -"

"I'm not running, Sansa, I'm going upstairs to put on some dry clothes."

"What's wrong, Robb?" She jerked her chin up. "Afraid you're going to lose control and fuck me up against the dryer? It's not like it hasn't happened before. Or have you forgotten?"

"Sansa -"

Furious, she let go of him to unhook and rip her bra off, flinging it at him. 

"There! Maybe you remember now?"

"Sansa! Stop!" He stormed over to the dryer to snap up the towel to cover her breasts. "I am your brother, and you are my sister. I love you as my sister. Please -"

"Is that why you spied on me while I rode Margaery Tyrell's mouth? To gain some brotherly insight? What about that tattoo, Robb?"

"I had that done before I joined the Seminary. Sometimes I forget it's even there." He flushed red, ignoring her remark about Marg. "Sansa -"

"How could you, Robb? How could you? You left me all those years ago, a scared seventeen year old girl who didn't know what to do after -"

"I had no choice after what you did to me." Robb's voice grew low, dark, but was still even. "You made that bed and happily laid in it."

"What about what you did to me, Robb! You act like I'm the one who tore your heart to pieces. You - you didn't care. You just robbed me of my innocence, took my virginity and then taunted me afterwards like it was nothing! My own brother. I came here to make amends, to put things right -"

"Sansa." He reached for her and she thought for a moment that maybe she would resist, maybe she should fight him, but his arms around her brought an odd sense of comfort and arousal, pressing her bare chest against his. His hand flew up to press her head to his neck, caressing. "Sansa. I didn't know. I thought you and Harry -"

"No. Not Harry. I fucked him plenty after you left, though. Even if you did break his fingers. I sought him out." She muttered the words into his neck. "It's the past. I don't care about Harry anymore."

She felt him shake, shudder, and even though she had hoped it was in desire and need, she knew it was in remorse. Reluctantly she pulled away and was startled to see tears in his eyes. 

"Sansa, all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I've gone down on my knees every night asking for God's. And God forgive me, it hasn't been enough."

Her hands snaked up into his hair, now only damp from the rain, clutching at his curls, drawing him in. She leaned into him as she pulled his head to her, lips meeting. His were soft, wide, full like she remembered and for a moment he kissed her back. Untrained, unsure, trembling lips, so different from what she remembered but still just as intoxicating as her lips parted his, moving with confidence.

Robb jerked away from her, his brows furrowing.

"Sansa, no. You are my sister. I love you. We can move forward, and forgive our past sin."

This time when he turned to leave she didn't stop him, shooting daggers into his tattooed back. He had rejected her so soundly, so sanctimoniously. His lips, which had tasted so sweet, now left her with a bitter flavor.

He could continue to beg God's forgiveness every damn night. 

He'd _never_ get hers.


	11. Ringing In The New Year (Flashback)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an entire chapter devoted to a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to sansafeels/ @gayforsansastark on tumblr for this perfect GIF moodboard!  
> Link:
> 
>  
> 
> <https://gayforsansastark.tumblr.com/post/176155027417/then-love-is-sin-and-let-me-sinful-be-chapter-11>  
> 

_Well, God hasn't struck me down yet. That's something, at least_. 

Sansa sat dutifully in the pew while trying to concentrate on Father Mormont's sermon but her mind had other ideas as she flitted her eyes away from the middle-aged yet still good-looking priest to glance to her right, past her mother and father and two younger brothers to where Robb sat. He seemed to be focused on the lecture at hand but she knew better when the muscle in his cheek flexed and his eyes narrowed slightly. Usually when he paid attention to his favorite priest he had more of a relaxed look and he lounged with his arm across the back of the pew, much to their mother's complaints. Now he was as straight as a board but giving nothing away to anyone else except that he was a perfect, model parishioner.

Squeezing her knees together nervously, she rubbed her ankles together, feeling the delicate chain of her new ankle bracelet, a gift at Christmas from Mom and Dad. It was beautiful and dainty, 24k gold with tiny little crosses that dangled when she walked. She didn't know of anyone who wore ankle bracelets anymore; maybe she could start a trend at school when the winter break was over. Sansa glanced down to catch the little crosses gleaming and they seemed to her a little too judgmental, so she turned to her left to see Arya looking bored while making absentminded doodles on a collection envelope. Her sister wasn't half bad at art, even if she was drawing what looked like little ninja wielding a sword or something. Or samurai, since the sword was curved. Curved sword. Curved sword like the one she had between her legs that made her ache for days afterwards. A good ache, a shameful ache, an empty ache that really just left her wanting more even if she was too ashamed to admit it -

She refused to look over at Robb again and instead turned back to Father Mormont but closed her eyes. This past week had been a hazy nightmare and Christmas had been a complete blur. Now with New Years Eve tonight, Robb would be going back to college soon. How did she feel about that? In one way it would be good to not have the tension of him hanging around and giving her those knowing, sexy smirks, but she wanted him to be around giving her sexy smirks. It meant they were for her only and he wasn't giving them out to some pretty college woman instead.

Tonight was New Year's Eve and she had no plans. How did that even happen to her? Pretty, popular, never-without-friends Sansa Stark was dateless on the most fun night of the year. She blamed Robb and his brutal treatment of Harry for that. She had not yet told her parents that Harry was history but he was. She tried calling him so many times after Robb threw him out but he refused her calls and texts. Frustrated, she told him they were over if he didn't respond and all she got back was an "OK" text. It was probably just as well. She would have to face him when they went back to school but for now the thought of seeing him terrified her, as if he would be able to tell just from her face that not only was she no longer the virgin she always touted she was; that her own brother was the one who deflowered her and she let him do it. She wanted him to do it. Oh, she couldn't explain it, how her legs felt like jelly when he informed her he was going to fuck her, how she almost passed out at his words but thankfully he held her and carried her to the bed. Shame, shameful how it turned her on to have him pressing down on her, holding her hostage on his bed. How hot was it to have him licking between her legs, how insanely incredible to feel his naked body against hers and oh, God forgive her, his cock might have hurt her at first but she loved the feel of him inside her. All made so much more exciting with his grip on her, his demanding of her, it was like he wanted her so much he didn't care about right or wrong. He only cared about fucking her and she came so easily, riding that thrill as fiercely as he rode her. All her little flirtations and jealousies and tests with him, all her dreaming of winning Robb's approval of her as someone desirable instead of just a cute little sister, reached a climax both literally and figuratively and it was the most shocking and powerful thing she had ever felt. 

Sansa flushed with the memory, warmth spreading through her body straight to between her legs and she smoothed down her modest skirt while shifting a little uncomfortably. Always in this past week when she thought about it, the pleasure was immediately followed by the pain. Not the pain of losing her virginity - the soreness faded and she hardly bled, which she figured was in part due to her active lifestyle - but the emotional pain. For a moment after Robb orgasmed inside of her she had tensed with the realization of what she let happen, shocked at what they had done but then she was more taken aback by his gentleness afterwards; it was a look of love he had in his eyes, and it scared her. She wanted his love, his reassurance, but she needed him to be in control, demand, take. If he took she could fool her herself into thinking she was just giving in to his lusts and she could absolve herself of any wrongdoing. It was wrong, how she enjoyed him dominating her, but it was even more of a wrong how in that sweet, sweet moment she wanted nothing more her whole life than for him to love her and touch her that way forever -

Then he decided to taunt her and be mean to her at a time when all she wanted was affirmation. It cut her deeply but instead of giving him the satisfaction of her being weak and bursting into tears, she managed to kick him in the balls and sprint to her room. There she allowed herself to cry while biting into her pillow to muffle any noise, just in case he was listening at the door. She laid there curled in a ball, hugging her pillow and reaching for her bear, feeling Robb's seed leaking down her thighs while wishing he would come in and fill her up again, or at least kiss her hurt away -

Sansa shivered, opening one eye, avoiding the statues of the Holy Mother and Jesus Christ.

Mass was taking forever. Well, it always took forever but this morning was torture.

No more of a torture than what her own thoughts were doing to her.

Her stomach churned.

Father Mormont droned on while her tummy did flips. He had a soothing voice, something you'd hear on books on tape, but today it was just unbearable. She chanced a look past her family to Robb on the end and he was already side-glancing at her, a small smile on his lips. Those full lips. Her brother's lips that had so feverishly gone down on her. Twice now. _Twice_ -

She couldn't take it anymore.

Dragging her eyes away she leaned over and whispered to her mother that she needed to use to restroom before trying to quietly move across where Arya was sitting (and getting a soft kick for it) and past two elderly parishioners while offering a smile and politely saying excuse me. She was able to slip discreetly out of the sanctuary into the open hall, then down to the left towards the women's restroom but thought better of it and pivoted to scurry down the stairs to the lower level where the Sunday School rooms were located, and headed for the women's bathroom there. Maybe she was hiding out or maybe she was going to sick. She wasn't sure. And she didn't know what she was going to do. 

There were three small stalls and Sansa chose the last one, shutting and locking the door before sitting on the toilet, clutching her stomach. She didn't even bother with a toilet seat cover even though she was squeamish about bathroom germs. Besides, she didn't have to go to the bathroom, she just needed to get away. Away from her unknowing parents and away from Robb. What would Mom and Dad think of her if they knew? Mom was always so proud of her for being the pretty little good girl daughter and Dad aways talked about wanting the best for her. Everyone loved the Starks. Would her parents hate her? Disown her? She was no longer their perfect little girl. She was a sexual deviant who wanted and got fucked by her full-blooded brother; the brother she loved and admired the most. It wasn't enough to have the lion's share of his brotherly affection. She wanted something she should have never even thought about wanting and now -

Scared, desolate, and confused, Sansa buried her head in her hands but tears wouldn't come. She didn't know if she really needed to cry or not. Instead she took in a few deep breaths and coughed, the faint echo disturbing the silence. She wondered if God could see her right now. Did God peek into women's restrooms to spy on incestuous girls who was trying to hide away from the guilt? Would He find a way to punish her or was she just too trivial to bother with? After all, she could go to confession and let her sins be forgiven through penance. But what if she didn't think it was such a sin?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. 

The bathroom door creaked open and Sansa gasped before lifting up her feet to set on the toilet, her legs scrunched up. She didn't want anyone to notice she was here and then ask if she was okay. Because she wasn't okay and she didn't know what she was going to do but it was no one's business. Irritation flooded her. There was a bathroom upstairs. Why -

A pair of shiny black shoes appeared underneath the stall attached to black pants and she gulped.

"Sansa?"

She said nothing, holding her breath.

"Sansa, I know you're in there. Your purse is on the floor."

 _Damn it_. 

She scrambled for her forgotten purse as she tensed.

"Sansa, are you all right?" His voice held concern. _The nerve of him_.

"What do you care?" She bit it out, letting her feet hit the floor while hugging her purse to her body as tight as she could. She needed the pressure to not totally lose it.

"Just open the fucking door." Robb rattled it for good measure. "I told Mom and Dad I was going to check on you. You've never left in the middle of Mass like that before."

"Go away, Robb. I'm - I'm fine." She knew she wouldn't convince him because she couldn't convince herself with her weak ass voice. "I just needed to go to the bathroom is all."

"Liar. Lying in a house of God, Sansa. Shame on you." She was shocked when he crouched all the way down to the floor to peek through the space between the door and the floor, careless of his cream colored dress shirt. "I knew it. Your panties are still on."

"Robb! Shut up!" She tried to kick her foot at him but he caught it. "Let me go and go back to Mass!"

"Not a chance. I'm just going to lay here sprawled out on the women's bathroom floor until you open this damn door. I could try to slide in but that's too easy. Do you want someone to catch us like this and try to explain it?"

She thought about that for a minute as she felt Robb slide off her dress heel from her foot, caressing her arch and toes. She had on her thigh-high pantyhose but his hand felt entirely too good through the thin barrier as he smoothed up the underside to her heel, then gliding to skim over her ankle bracelet. She had received wonderful foot rubs from him in the past but this was no foot rub. The touch was slow, deliberate, and she tried to yank her foot away. He clasped down on her bracelet while his other hand scooped up her shoe.

"Well, seeing how I have your shoe hostage, get out of the stall or you won't get it back. Then you can also explain to Mom and Dad how you broke your pretty new bracelet," he threatened, his tone harsh in contrast to his fingertips outlining the little crosses before massaging her ankle bone in a small, languid circle, as if they had all the time in the world. It was seconds maybe but it shot a thrill all the way up her leg straight to her apex, where she started to -

"Fine! Fine, I'm coming out!" The butterflies stirred in her stomach again as he released his grip and lifted himself off the floor. Sansa was nervous, flushed, and now worried. She needed her shoe and she needed Robb to go away. _For good_.

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she steeled herself with courage as she heard the water running from the single basin sink. She unlatched the door and hobbled out to find Robb washing his hands vigorously before snatching two cheap brown paper towels from the dispenser to dry them. Her shoe was perched on the edge of the basin. She could swear it was taunting her.

"I'm out like you wanted. Give me my shoe back."

Robb threw the towels in the trash and turned to look at her. His gaze was icy even as he smirked.

"Or what, are you going to kick me in the balls again and run?" 

Before she could even attempt to answer that he had her pushed up against the wall, pinning her hands by her head. She would have shrank from him but there was really no chance to move. He smelled good, like a fresh shower and faint cologne and she couldn't help but stare into his neck. Anything was better than his face.The veins protruded and pulsed against his pale skin. She bit her lip and tried to deny the excitement creeping up inside of her.

"C'mon, Sansa, I left your legs more than free to knee me and run. You're _good_ at that." His breath was hot on her forehead. "No? I thought so."

Her mind reeled when he released her hands only to grab her neck and tilt her head for a kiss. His lips were warm, welcoming, even as they demanded and she had no fight. They were just as thrilling as they had been last weekend and she shamelessly responded, even though she hadn't wanted to. The back of her head pushed up against the wall until he snaked a hand to buffer the harshness. A hand that gripped her red locks and she sighed into his mouth when his tongue touched hers. Her hands were flailing until she felt his other hand fumble down and up her skirt and she almost died when his fingers slid underneath her panties. He swore softly, taking the Lord's name in vain as she felt two sexy fingers slide inside of her and then out again to rub her slick into her clit. He abruptly stopped kissing her but continued his movements elsewhere.

"I found you out, Sansa." he whispered into her ear. "Christ, all I could do was sit there and think of all the things I want to do to you -"

In response she jutted her hips up into him and he pressed in closer as she fling her arms around his neck. She could feel his erection, could feel how he wanted her and she whimpered a little, biting her lip. She was already so close. There was something so wicked about letting Robb do this to her in their church and it touched something deep inside. His fingers delved back inside of her and she moaned a little - or maybe it was a whimper. Whatever it was it was cut off when he nibbled at her ear, taking her near the brink when he moved his drenched fingers out once more to assault her nub. She wanted both; his fingers inside of her and his thumb on her clit. She wanted this orgasm, oh she was so close -

"The things I want to do to you would keep me out of heaven." His words trickled down her ear and she shivered, his words making her almost pass out. She struggled for concentration.

"You've -you've done enough already - to - to -" she gasped, giving up on talking and losing herself in the feeling of him. Almost there, she was almost there and she no longer cared or felt guilt. All she felt was want. _Need_. 

His fingers yanked away from her folds so suddenly she nearly fell and she cried out in protest.

"Oh no, my sweet little Sansa. There’s more... so much more... and I am going to show you."

She stood in confusion and frustration as he kissed her chastely on the forehead before stepping away and she watched in disbelief as he sucked her secretions off of his fingers before turning to grab her shoe.

"Robb -" 

He said nothing as he knelt before her and lifted her foot to slide shoe on before planting a small kiss on her ankle followed by a nip on one of the crosses. She could feel his deep breath on her skin through her pantyhose as she shakily stomped her foot down onto the tile floor. He rose to his feet as graceful as a dancer and smirked.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sis. Consider it payback for the pain you caused when you decided to punish me for the truth."

"Pain? You think you're the only one who - ah!" His hand cupped her underneath her skirt and she stilled, hoping, but he only gave her some languid strokes - enough to build her up again - before adjusting her panties and smoothing out her skirt. He tilted her chin up towards him and his eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Have fun tonight, Sansa, watching Rickon and Bran while everyone else is out having a great time ringing in the new year. I'll be thinking of you when Jon and I are out getting wasted. Jon has a date lined up for me. I mean, you still have your boyfriend, so why shouldn't I have something too?"

"You'd do that? After you just -" She knew she was blushing. She knew he knew she wanted him to bring her off but was too proud or ashamed to ask.

"Oh, Sansa." He leaned in and she was ashamed how she arched out to feel him. Once again his mouth found her ear. "I think you should know I _fully_ intend to fuck someone tonight."

He didn't wait for a response, didn't offer to give her that release. Instead he smirked and she stared at him, jealous and hurt and terribly aroused. _How could he_.

"Get your ass back to Mass. It's probably almost over but I doubt it. Father Mormont's sermon can last hours. I can't wait to see you sitting there all prim and proper while you think about having your brother's fingers up your cunt in the Lord's house. At least I am sure you don't feel so sick now, do you?"

She was speechless as he sauntered out the door. Within seconds her own fingers shoved between her legs and she brought herself off. It only took a minute or two; he had primed her well. She really was completely wet and she bit her lip to stop from crying out as she shuddered with her release. It was a climax but it was empty.

Damn him. He was right.

She no longer felt sick. Or confused.

 

*******************

 

The thought that Arya had a better social life on New Year's Eve than she did annoyed Sansa throughout the whole evening. Even as she attempted to have fun making homemade pizzas and watching movies with Bran and Rickon and tried to appreciate the bonding time with her younger brothers, she couldn't help but find it mildly irritating that her younger, less popular, tomboy and rowdy sister was over at her friend Shireen's house at a sleepover while she was stuck friendless and sans boyfriend. Still it was nice to spend time with her brothers even though they tapped out way too early, no doubt in part due to Mom dragging them to early morning Mass. Well before midnight they headed to bed, leaving Sansa alone to mope in her own room and wide awake with her thoughts which was never good lately.

Mom gave her the third degree before she went out and for the first time ever she was uncomfortable around her. She was closest to her mother than anyone in the house (well, besides Robb but never mind on that), and she found it hard to look at her in the face all week. She had stood behind her, hands behind her back, while Catelyn Stark deftly went through the finishing touches at her vanity before going out with Dad. Still lovely with her auburn hair swept up into a delicate hairdo, Sansa tried to avoid the dark blue stare of concern. When asked about Harry Sansa recited her rehearsed response that he had come down with the flu. She hated lying to her mother but to tell her the truth of why Harry wasn't coming around would be terrible.

Only in her mother's presence did Sansa feel completely guilty and the uneasy feeling in her stomach that had been quelled with Robb now reared its ugly head. It was hard to accept Mom's loving kiss to her cheek and careful hug, and even worse to smile when she admonished her to be good and not have any boys over. The awful feeling in the pit of her gut worsened as Dad joined Mom and helped her on with her coat to leave and Robb was right behind them, dressed sharp and smelling good for his party time with Jon to go meet some unnamed girl who would help him ring in the New Year. Pride kept her from faking an illness to guilt Robb into staying home but she did not miss the small smile he gave her before drawing on his black coat and leaving. She felt relief that she was free of her parents' watchful eyes for the evening but resented Robb taking off to wet his dick in some other girl. It was just so wrong. How could he even think of being with someone else? He should at least have kept it to himself. Now all she could do was seethe in bitter jealousy. The thought crossed her mind that maybe that's exactly how he wanted her to react. He _wanted_ her to be angry.

It had been hard enough to try to keep her mind off of Robb while with Bran and Rickon, but now in her cold and lonely bed it was unbearable. Maybe she should have stayed up and watched a movie of her choosing but instead she snuggled under the covers while playing on her phone, checking in on all the social media sites and also texting her best friend Jeyne, who was in Florida with family for the holidays. She desperately wanted to stay up until midnight but the strain of the day took a toll on her. Slamming her phone down on the nightstand, she yawned and flipped over onto her stomach, turning her head to the right to stare at her bed companion, Mr. Happy. She had been so impressed when she found him lying on her bed with the cutest note from Robb. She couldn't wait to thank him and then she saw him - well, she saw more of him than she ever had since they were little, and he wasn't so little anymore. No, he was a man grown and the look he gave her no longer masked the fact that he wanted her, too. So was he playing games? He threw Harry out of the house for touching her but yet he was off to try to get laid tonight? 

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut. It was dark in her room once her cell light signed off but it was even darker behind her eyelids. Would she ever admit she just wanted Robb all to herself? That she didn't want him to have girlfriends or get married and move away and have kids. She didn't care about any other guy showering her with compliments and interest. 

She only wanted Robb.

It was sick. It was so sick of her but she couldn't help it. He was an adult now. He wasn't a silly teenage boy who acted lame to get her attention. He was confident, handsome, and even if she wasn't supposed to think it, he was downright sexy. What sister ever thought that about her brother? What in the hell was wrong with her? He obviously wanted her. He took her in a frenzy and didn't apologize for it and teased her so badly in the church bathroom, leaving her wanting more. Yet here they were; he was out with some girl while she flopped in her bed before midnight like some seventy year old spinster.

It was too quiet. It felt like the silence of the house was judging her. 

Sighing, she buried her face into her pillow, her hands sliding underneath to grip tightly at the pillowcase. She was so very tired, well, maybe not physically but mentally and emotionally. Her lids felt heavy as she willed herself to fall asleep. Maybe if she could sleep through the midnight hour she wouldn't feel so much like a pathetic loser, a pitiful shell pining for her own brother. Besides, not being awake meant she wouldn't have to deal with her feelings.

Sansa suddenly jerked awake, her head to the side and hands still under her pillow. A bleary glare focused on her nightstand clock that glowed with the time of 11:48. Still not past midnight but it really didn't matter anymore to her when she felt her comforter being cast aside and a body hovering above her... a body with swift hands insistently tugging off her sleeping pants and panties together before pushing up her camisole top. What was there to do but arch up and move her arms for him to slide it over and off of her?

She dug her nails into her pillow and froze, feeling his warm hands caressing her back before dipping down to cup her bare ass. Sansa swallowed, not daring to breathe or speak or move, afraid that he would stop; afraid he would continue. It was dark and she couldn't see much, the only light in the room was from her clock. What did it matter if she couldn't see? She could feel his touch and that was enough for her. Already her body was responding to his exploratory caresses. She'd never had anyone's hands on her bare ass before and they felt...good. Because it was dark she could allow it. It was easier to enjoy the feel if she couldn't see it happening, could see him. Maybe she could even try to pretend he was someone else, not her brother. He could be anyone in the dark. Her boyfriend Harry, or her favorite actor. her favorite musician. Maybe some sexy stranger coming in to ravage her while her brothers slept soundly down the hall. Yet her delusions were shattered when he leaned into her body, placing his hands on either side of her head. He was completely naked. She could feel the heat of his flesh and a slight tickle of chest hair on her back as he leaned his head down to her, his lips grazing her earlobe. Her hair covered most of her ear but obviously he didn't care. And it didn't hamper his intentions.

"My sweet little Sansa," he whispered. "You didn't think I would forget you on New Year's Eve, did you? I never have before, and I'm not about to start now."

His breath was laced with alcohol but his words were perfectly spoken. She could smell his very faint cologne but thankfully no scent of a woman on him. She didn't know what to say.

"I want my New Year's kiss, Sansa." It was a command, not a plea, but it fell like liquid sugar down her ear. She moved to turn to face him to give him what he wanted and gasped in surprise when he pushed her head back down on her pillow. 

"Robb -" she breathed it out in confusion as he moved south. "What -"

"I told you, _I want my New Year's kiss_." He was quiet as he growled it out, his body wedging between her legs. The warmth and pressure on her back was gone but oh, oh, it was replaced with warm, strong hands at her waist. "Raise up your beautiful little ass. I want to kiss you."

Her heart started hammering but she did as he wanted and was ashamed at her eagerness and also embarrassed at how wet she already was just within a few minutes of his touch. She couldn't help but cram a fist in her mouth when she felt his breath hot on her ass as he scooted further down. One of his hands held her steady by her ass while the other traced a line down the cleft there before dipping down and under to coax out her clit by rolling it in between two fingers.

"Jesus Christ, you're already wet -" His lips latched onto her folds and she whimpered, spreading her legs wider apart while doing her best to keep her bottom elevated. Electrifying shots blazed through her body while his mouth and tongue worked her. It truly did feel like he was french-kissing her pussy and she couldn't help but push back into him a little, just a little, to increase the pressure. She was building up already to an orgasm and she feared he would deny her like he did in the bathroom at church so she chased the feeling, trying not to give away how quickly she was going to cum.

Robb must have known it too and wanted her to have a release because he increased his efforts both with his mouth, his tongue delving deep inside, and his fingers, rubbing and pinching her sensitive bundle of nerves. She heard fireworks going off - or maybe they were bottle rockets or guns or whatever - and she could help but cry out into her fist as she shook with her climax. Whatever explosions outside, they couldn't begin to match her insides when she clawed at her pillow while feeling the dizzying heights of her orgasm.

"Happy New Year, Sansa," he muttered, pulling away from her.

Weakly she tried to roll over but like lightning he was over her again. This time his breath smelled like her juices and for some reason it started her on the path to arousal again so soon after she came. His hand brushed her hair to the side, exposing her neck. His breath was heavy and his lips soaked as he planted kisses up and down, then across to her ear lobe where tiny nibbles would have surely had her collapsing if she had been standing. 

"You didn't think I was _finished_ , do you?" He pressed down on her and she felt him. Hard. Hot. Wanting. "I told you I fully intended to fuck someone tonight, didn't I?"

It was wrong, so wrong how his words turned her on. Maybe it was because it was so forbidden, so taboo and no one would ever think she was capable of lusting after her own brother. Maybe it was because she was just that sick. Oh, how could she sit in church and pretend, pretend she was anything but damned for this. 

Determined, she closed her eyes tightly and tensed, trying to conjure up her favorite boy band singer or that hot new actor Jeyne always went on and on about. Maybe when he fucked her he would be some faceless stranger. Anyone but who he really was and who she really wanted. _Anyone_.

"I know what you're doing, Sansa, and I won't let you." She felt his hand grip the back of her neck. "But I want to fuck you this way. I know you want me to, too."

It was so wicked how his hand seemed to burn into her neck and she couldn't help but whine a little when he released her, but the disappointment was quickly replaced by shock when she felt him slither down and crouch, his breath warm on her ass cheek and his hands gripping her waist so roughly to hold her in place she knew marks would be left. 

She braced herself for him to rear up and enter her sharply like he did the night he threw Harry out. At least it wouldn't hurt this time but all the same she clutched onto her pillow for dear life and she smashed her forehead down into it, waiting. But that's not what he did and instead of receiving an onslaught of his cock she felt his warm, wet tongue glide down her ass crack. She'd never had anyone do such a thing before and nerves she never even knew she had electrified and caused her to raise her head and gasp and then cry out when the pliable soft tongue slid into her hole. She heard a small muffled self-righteous snicker and felt gusts of hot, hot, breath and oh my god he was fucking her asshole with his tongue. She couldn't think of anything else or anyone else and didn't want to. She felt a surge between her legs and almost died when Robb's fingers slipped down to discover her secret, sliding over her drenched folds before tickling her clit. Her head collapsed back into the pillow in defeat.

There was no mistaking her huff of disappointment when his tongue retreated from its depths and she heard him chuckle.

"Jesus, Sansa, you really liked your brother eating your ass, didn't you? You're running all over my fingers. My naughty, sweet little Sansa." The tickles became slippery rubbing and she built up too quickly."Keep your cries and moans quiet. You wouldn't want to wake your other brothers, would you?"

She meant to say no but she was helpless to her impending orgasm, hampered when he withdrew his fingers.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Sansa?" Two fingers slid into her and she almost died when he gently fucked her with them. His voice was soft, caressing." _Tell me_."

No. No, she couldn't. She couldn't say it. It was better for him to take her, demand, not ask. She was still absolved of wrongdoing as long as she never voiced it - and oh, she was going to cum again. She was -

"Tell me, damn you." His fingers left her warm insides, leaving her feeling empty. "I want you to say it."

Oh. Oh god he wasn't going to do anything unless she said it. 

"I -" Sansa swallowed, coming off the pillow so she wouldn't be muffled and have to repeat herself. "I - want you to."

"To what?" His hand caressed her left ass cheek before running a wet finger down her crevice to press at her anus. It didn't dare much, only dipping a little into her hole but her heart jumped into her throat. It felt wrong but sexy. _Dirty_.

"I - I want you to.. to... fuck me." She nearly wept with relief when his fingers returned to stroke her, only to stop. 

" _Who_ do you want to fuck you, Sansa?" His fingers filled her again, pressing in to the hilt, only to still. Desperate, she tried to buck back into him to cause some movement but his hand was on her ass, his fingers digging in almost painfully to hold her in check.

"You," she whispered. "You."

"And who am I?" Fingers gone again, both strong hands now at her waist.

"Robb." She felt him move in prime position and she willingly lifted her ass up higher.

"I'm more than just _Robb_ to you, sister. Say it."

She knew what he was doing. Shame, guilt, lust, and desperation swept over her and something inside her broke. She could not longer ignore her body begging for him or her mind craving this forbidden act, and he wouldn't let her push all the responsibility onto him. He wanted her to be equally as guilty as he. He was forcing her to give voice to all her actions over the past few years, all of her thoughts and secret desires; give credence and validate what she wanted from him for so long. She both hated and loved him for it.

_But mostly hated._

"I want you, Robb. My brother. I want - I want my brother to fuck me. I want you to fuck me and make me cum. Please. I dont want anyone else but you, _my brother_. Please, Robb, please -"

She felt near to crying but she moaned out in pleasure instead when a hand left her side to guide his cock into her. Slow, oh god he was slow and it felt strange this way. It was as if he went deeper and it hurt a little but what was a little hurt compared to the bliss? He filled her and she cried out into her pillow when he started to move, thrust, so oddly gentle in contrast to his whispered, filthy words.

"You've wanted me for so long, haven't you? My dick fucking this tight little pussy of yours. I wanted you to fucking say it." His body loomed over hers, his thrusts still gentle, almost teasing. His words were more breathy now. "Spread those legs a little wider. I want to play with that pretty pink clit. I want you to cum with my name on your lips."

What could she do but comply? Her reward for obedience was his fingers rubbing her to an orgasm as he kept his thrusts gentle, almost loving. She shattered and broke into a million pieces in her body and her mind as she came hard, pushing back against him and crying out in pain and ecstasy.

"Robb!" It came out so strangled, so anguished; as torn as her heart. "Oh god, Robb -"

Sansa was shocked when Robb shoved her down into the mattress, her knees giving way so she laid completely on her stomach. The thoughtfulness he had displayed left and was replaced with hard, demanding thrusts, followed with his body pressing down into hers. His head was behind hers, his heavy panting tickling her neck, his arms stretched out and struggling for leverage on either side of her, his fists rammed into where the mattress met the headboard. 

"Your pussy feels so good cumming on my cock, Sansa." He was huffing now, growling, almost feral. No, he was feral and she was helpless under him."Now it's _my_ turn.To cum inside you. Inside this tight little soaked cunt." 

Her hands flailed out to madly grasp at his forearms. To hold on for dear life. Even though she had two orgasms and she was overly sensitive and he was hurting her now she wanted it. She wanted him to cum. _For her_. 

"You want me to cum inside, don't you? Say it. Or so God help me -" She felt the nip at her neck - "I'll fuck you so long you won't walk straight for days-"

She did cry then, silently. Another admission, another way to break. She didn't want it to end but her body wasn't used to this treatment. And she was so terrible; she _craved_ it.

"Cum inside me, Robb, please!" She gasped at how loud she was, ashamed and needy. "I need you to cum. Please, please, I can't -"

Robb moved in closer, his arms now sliding underneath her, just below her breasts and he hugged her tight to him, his head moving to the side to kiss her ear, her neck. It was a full body hug. Something that could have been a gesture of love if not for him madly fucking her. Her back started to ache but she would not have protested for the world. 

"My sweet little Sansa. My sweet, sweet Sansa - I'd fuck you forever if I could. Forever. Ah, fuck -" One final thrust had her crying out in a sweet agony and he moaned low into her ear. She felt the mad pulses, the warmth flooding her. "A New Year's Eve you'll never fucking forget."

He pulled out so suddenly she whimpered and before she knew what was happening he had her flipped over onto her back, towering above her, his hand reaching down and shoving between her legs as his seed leaked out of her onto the sheets. She felt numb down there and her legs shook. Her back twinged but she sighed in disbelief and surrender when his fingers rubbed her frantically, pinching her clit. She was not so unfeeling after all and she gave over to another climax. This time his kiss took her moans away. 

"Sansa." His face was so close she could see him better now but thankfully he was still muted in darkness... which meant her face was as well. He pulled her into his arms and rolled with her onto his back. She tensed for a moment but then allowed herself to flop her head down into his chest. His heart was beating no less frantically than hers.

For a moment, she didn't feel like running away. Sore, broken, exposed, she didn't want to flee. And for a moment all of Robb's taunts fell into silence as his arms wrapped around her. Somehow, this felt the most forbidden of all.

How long they stayed like that she had no idea. All she knew was that she faintly heard the garage door raise.

_Mom and Dad_.

Robb heard it too, scrambling out of her bed, not wasting time by pausing, racing out of the door and shutting it soundly behind him, leaving her to lie in the dark alone, more scared and confused as ever as she rolled over onto her side to avoid the wet spot created by her brother's seed spilling out of her. She wanted to scream and cry and didn't know what to do, how to feel.

Her phone buzzed.

Hazily she reached for it to unlock. She had several messages from her friends wishing her a Happy New Year. She skipped them in favor of the most recent one.

_Pleasant dreams, my Sweet Little Sansa_. 

Trembling fingers brushed over the text as she stared at it, not sure what to do or say.

A few moments later, she shut off her phone completely without replying.


	12. Italian Casserole With A Touch Of Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to sansafeels (gayforsansastark on Tumblr) for this cool mood board... it helped to motivate me to get moving on fics again!
> 
>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165748359@N03/43468826765/in/dateposted-public/)

_Father Stark_ ,  
_I have the pleasure of announcing that I will be traveling across the country for the majority of fall and winter to speak at various Seminaries. It is a great honor and I feel blessed to have been chosen to bring others into the fold. As it were, I will find myself passing through Moletown and was hoping for a visit. I would very much like to catch up and also see for myself the enormous success you have had. I will be calling closer to my arrival date_.  
_In God's love_ ,  
_Father Jorah Mormont_

 

Robb stared at the screen on his computer for a moment before clicking out without a reply. His mentor and favorite priest, who he hadn't seen in nearly two years due to busy schedules on both sides, was now planning on visiting. His heart should have been happy; after all, Father Jorah was a man he admired and trusted and learned from. Under normal circumstances he would have replied immediately to his email, but his circumstances were far from ordinary right now. The timing could not be any worse.

He didn't want Father Jorah discovering who his newly acquired house guest was.

A small prickling feeling touched his neck and he rubbed against it. 

_Maybe Father Jorah already knew of Sansa's temporary stay_.

Leaning back in his high-backed office chair, he closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. Exhaustion, sleepless nights and torment, they were on him again. Just when he thought he could actually find moments of sanity and clarity with Sansa, and maybe even a slight compatible feeling, it was gone again in a blink of an eye. Or, rather, gone with a glimpse of a tattoo, a small kiss, and the knowledge he had taken away Sansa's innocence in a mad fury of jealousy.

Something that should have been given to someone in love and trust and tenderness was stolen from her without care because of his own desires, and he felt sickened, recalling the rush of pleasure like he'd never experienced with anyone before and never would again. He had been in euphoria and mistakenly thought her sharp cries were of shock and want, not pain. He was horrified. He berated himself for being a thoughtless monster... but then a part of him smugly realized Harry had not been her first and he shamelessly rejoiced in it. He was her first and no matter how many came after him - and he suspected there were many - no one could take that away from him, from her. 

It was his fault for reaching out to her, pulling her in to comfort her and also his mistake for accepting her kiss. It had been a decade since he had experienced an intimate lover's kiss - from her, no less - and he let himself respond before he regained his sense of morality. All of his being instantly wanted to press her to him for more, take what he yearned for from her lips, but he could not - would not - give in. Yet to feel her like that in his arms -

How could he not realize she had been a virgin? How could she not have protested and told him?

His stomach churned.

Sansa had fled to her room after she came up from the basement and Robb had been at a loss over what to do about it. He stood like a fool in the kitchen as she flounced by him, a towel wrapped under her armpits for modesty as her shirt and bra dried. Shame and denial made him turn away from the view of her smooth, pale back as she walked away from him. His body responded to her even though he had prayed feverishly for it to stay dormant. He did not see her the rest of the night, not even for supper, even though he had tentatively knocked on her bedroom door to tell her the takeout had been delivered. For the past several days he rarely saw her but he didn't press the issue; didn't text her, call her, talk to her. She made herself scarce and Robb spent more time than ever in his office or making extra rounds. The past week has seen him become the most hard-working of priests but he knew it was not out of the need to do the Lord's work but out of a need to stop from thinking about his sister or confronting the situation at hand. Sometimes he would stop in the middle of a conversation with a convalescent or one of his parishioners and wonder how he could even be a good priest and a man of God to anyone. In the dark recesses of his mind there was a seed of doubt. She did that. She planted the seed within days of her arrival and it has been growing a vicious vine ever since. His carefully built life, the love and adoration of his parishioners, his relationship with a God of forgiveness; was this who he really was? Was it all nothing against the sweet touch of her lips against his? _His sweet little Sansa_ -

She had been so lovely and almost childlike coming in from the rain and they even shared a laugh. It almost felt like they were kids again, before Sansa's sexual awakening. Then she spotted his tattoo. Something he said he meant to get rid of. Yet, did he speak true? Through his years at Seminary School he vowed to keep it as a reminder of her betrayal of him, of their love, and even after the anger and hate diluted into a positive focus on his calling, he did not have the heart or money to have it removed. He could rationalize his decision by telling himself he would never be naked in anyone's presence again so no one would see it, and it was true - true until Sansa looked upon it. Sansa, who went from a giggling girl to an angry woman, a wronged and insulted woman. A beautiful, passionate woman who flung her bra aside and asked him to recall a memory he had tried so hard to erase. The memory of him stealing a moment with her in the laundry room before he left for the winter semester at college; the moment turning into a heated encounter and ending with her warm, willing mouth on his cock after he had already fucked her against the dryer -

"Father Robb?"

Opening his eyes to half mast, he watched as Myrcella tentatively entered his office. For a moment he had an urge to ask why she couldn't have knocked first and then realized that not only has he told her in the past to just come in, but that he had a massive erection. Hastily he scooted his chair up as far as he could so his lap was under his desk as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, Myrcella?" He was startled at how low and silky smooth his voice sounded and tried to clear his thoughts.

"Um, I just wanted to remind you that you have a meeting with the parish staff to talk about catechetical programs and a few other items at one o'clock. And tomorrow evening is a house visit to the Umber's."

"Thank you. I had completely forgotten about the meeting." He had. Lately his mind has been emptied of everything except Sansa. Even his devotionals and his nightly prayers have gone by the wayside, with him always attempting to do penance the next morning.

"It's all right. I've noticed you've been spreading yourself thin this past week. And don't forget that before Sansa come into town, you weren't sleeping very well."

His eyes fully opened now, Robb managed to pull his mouth into a smile for Myrcella's benefit. She was standing in front of him clutching a folder to her chest, with a look of worry on her face. A sweet face, with a soft, serene expression in her honest green eyes. Her hair was flowing around her like gold-spun spirals and she was dressed modestly in a light sweater and knee-length skirt. Still, her top hugged her body, complimenting her slight curves. She wasn't as curvy as Sansa but there was no denying Myrcella was a beauty inside and out. For a moment Robb stared at her hair, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. He longed for it to be auburn as he forced himself to avert his gaze back to the computer.

"Well, the weather has been changing. Haven't you always said weather patterns affect sleep patterns? Now that the cooler weather has arrived, maybe I can sleep better."

"Well, it is now October. Officially fall. Oh, that reminds me, there are only a few weeks until the Autumn Hayride And Weenie Roast event. I've called up Pod already -"

"Oh, so are we roasting Bronn at this event?" 

Myrcella giggled and swiped at him with her folder.

"Father Robb! You did _not_ just call Bronn a ... a weenie!"

"Oh, come on Myrcella, I know you are thinking about it now, too." He smiled, trying to push down his turmoil while engaging in genial banter.

"I do wonder how he and Pod ever became fast friends. I mean, I think he looks at me sometimes like I'm - I'm naked. He's always been polite enough, I guess, but I think he is a little too loose with the ladies. Nothing like Pod."

"Myrcella, if he makes you feel uncomfortable, I can talk to him," offered Robb, his chest tightening at the thought of her being oogled by a lustful man, ignoring the fact that he had looked upon her body in appreciation only moments before.

"No, no, it's fine, really, but thank you." A slender hand flew to her neck, twisting the chain on her cross necklace. "I wish my brother was as half as concerned about me as you are."

"Joff ? Or Tommen?" His brow furrowed. Joffrey Baratheon was not the nicest of people. Very self-centered and glowering. He looked like Myrcella with his golden hair and green eyes but had none of her sweetness, and rarely attended church. He was a typical "C & E" parishioner, attending Christmas Mass and Easter services and completely forgetting the church exists at any other time. Tommen, however, was quiet and respectful; a near twin to his sister in looks and demeanor, except where Myrcella was bubbly, Tommen was reflective.

"Joff. He's so - well, he just never seemed to like me much. Tommen and I are closer but he is easily preoccupied with things." She bit her lip. "My Uncle Jaime is pretty protective, but of course I don't see him all the time. Not as much as I would like too."

"Your Uncle is a good man, and so is your brother. Perhaps some day Joff will come around."

"Oh, I doubt that. I try not to concern myself with him. Is that bad? I mean, sometimes I feel guilty avoiding him but he's just so toxic to be around. I know you'll say I need to forgive him and help him find his way to God, but -"

Myrcella was cut off as a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, a light knocking on the door frame filling the office. She turned and Robb tensed, his hands making their way to grip the arms on his chair.

Sansa.

She looked pretty in her light yellow sweater and casual jeans, topped off with a stylish dark tan trench coat and brown boots. Her hair was smooth and straight, her cheeks flushed. A small smile graced her face.

"Hey, am I interrupting anything? I made a lunch for my brother." To verify her statement she held up a blue satchel. "I mean, I didn't know if you would be eating out or not. I figure if so, you can just put it in the fridge for later. Or... share it."

"Oh, I wish I was lucky enough to have a sibling make lunch for me. I was just leaving, Sansa. I'm having lunch with my mom, so he's all yours."

"Myrcella, you can stay. I'm sure Sansa made enough if she said I could share it." He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he saw Sansa's face turn to stone. She was impassive, unreadable. He always used to be able to tell what she was thinking just by the look on her face, but not now -

"No, no, it's fine! Mother will be waiting on me, and besides, she's buying." She offered up a smile and Robb's heart sank as his last saving grace made her way out the door, and the calm left with her, leaving the silent storm. The ache in his groin increased and he tried to recite a Psalm in his head and failed miserably.

"Thank you, Sansa." His hold tightened as she sauntered towards him, plopping herself into the chair opposite of him and tossing the bag onto his desk.

"It's just something I baked up. Kind of like an Italian casserole. You and your Italian food addiction. There's more in the fridge. I also packed a bottled water since I figured a beer was out of the question. I mean, Italian food needs wine or beer, but considering -" She shrugged."Anyway, I wanted to talk to you and you've been avoiding me."

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout and Robb busied himself with unloading the contents, trying to muster up the urge to eat. 

"I've not been avoiding you, Sansa. I've been busy. There's a difference."

"Whatever. I'll cut to the chase. I'm going to be moving in with Marg until my apartment is completed. I've got another month and a half and Marg is very... accommodating. She's at work now, but she's coming over tonight to pick me up."

Images of Sansa and Marg flashed through his head and he swallowed so hard he was sure she could hear it. Panic flooded him then. Leave? Leave and live with Margaery Tyrell? He knew Marg and her loose morals and standards and the company she kept was questionable. He hadn't liked the idea of Sansa being with Marg - oh god, his conscience sneered at that; he liked the view of Sansa riding her tongue well enough - but it was tolerable knowing it might have been a one-time thing. Now, she was going to leave him and sleep with Marg in Marg's bed? All over a decade-old tattoo and a kiss?

"If this is about what happened in the basement -" He finally met her blue eyes squarely. Her gaze was full of determination. "Sansa, all is forgiven. It was a moment -"

"Yes, a moment and ever since you've been treating me like I'm not even around. We both know you never wanted me to stay with you anyway. So, this solves the problem."

Robb speared his fork into the flavorful casserole, still warm and smelling delicious, but left it there.

"Sansa, you can't leave." He bit it out, glancing furtively over to the crucifix on the wall beside them as her scent wafted over to him, light and intoxicating."I mean, there's no reason for you to leave."

"You kissed your sister, Robb. I don't think God approves of our living arrangement now."

"I don't believe God would want me to turn my sister out into the streets. And God forgives just as we do."

"I'm not on the streets. I'll be with Margaery."

" _No_ , Sansa!"

He bellowed it out before he could stop himself, afraid Myrcella hadn't left yet and heard him. He looked out through the door but saw nothing. Relieved, he tried to eat as if he just didn't bark an order. She didn't flinch and no retort came and as he looked at her he was struck by how beautiful, how mature she really was. Sometimes when he was away from her and she entered his mind, she was always that sweet seventeen year old. His sinful, forbidden love. Now... now everything had changed. 

Everything except one thing.

"All right Robb. I'm sorry, I just didn't think you wanted me around anymore. I'll stop by Marg's work and let her know."

"Of course I want you around, Sansa." His voice was gentle now, speaking between bites. "I think it is good that we have been working on putting the past behind us. It is good to be in contact with all of my siblings now. Besides, it's nice to have someone willing to make me a lunch casserole."

"Like you don't have a hundred ladies in your church more than willing to to that." To his surprise she rose from the chair, leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. Her lips were silky smooth with a hint of moisture."Thank you, Robb."

"You're leaving?"

"I have a lunch date with Podrick, then a job interview in Denver. Besides, I am sure you have a fully scheduled afternoon. Goodbye Robb. Enjoy your lunch."

"Thank you, Sansa. Good luck," he managed to offer, even as it stuck in his throat.

"Thanks." She glided to the the door, turning around to smile her dazzling grin. "Enjoy your casserole, and see you tonight?"

Robb nodded, dragging his eyes away as she disappeared, reflectively touching the spot where he could still feel her touch, just as he still felt the sensation of her lips on his. He supposed God could easily forgive his reveling in a couple of clandestine kisses, against the weight of much larger sins in the world, but he wondered how much of a penance he would have to take on for experiencing one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Envy.

He attacked the rest of his lunch, trying to be mindful of his portion, trying to not breathe in the slight lingering scent of her, and trying not to think about Sansa enjoying her lunch date with Podrick. It would torture him if he let it in. 

No. This had to stop. She was his sister, and sister she would stay. This was his test of faith and so far he has wavered but not fallen. Now with him insisting she stay with him, he could work on strengthening his resolve and prove he was above temptations. He loved Sansa, she was his sister. There was no sin in that, no matter what happened in the past.

Uneasily he shifted in his chair, his whole body tense, still painfully aware of his erection.

He was already regretting his demand that she stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile. Writer's block + busy life + tired = no writing. This chapter will seem like a filler chapter, and maybe it is, but I wanted to show a little bit of "past Robb" emerging as well as a little Myrcella/Sansa contrast in dynamics with Robb. Hopefully this will start me up again, because the next chapter will be a doozy.


	13. Saints And Sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to sansafeels for this mood board ...who never fails to amaze me. :)
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165748359@N03/44368912642/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

Sansa grinned wickedly at her reflection in the full-length mirror, adjusting the appendage hanging from her neck. She wanted to impulsively kiss the glass and leave a bright red smudge, but resisted and giggled instead, smoothing her black painted fingernails over her delectable costume. If Podrick Payne resisted her tonight, then the man was not straight.

Thank whatever god there was - if there even was one - that Robb left over an hour ago for the hospital, muttering to her about that Wylla girl or something, leaving her to dress for Marg's Halloween bash. It has been planned for three weeks now. Marg wouldn't shut up about it; she had weekend access to her parent's mansion and was determined to make the most of it, even handing out little business cards for the date and time, and event title. "Saints And Sinners" was the theme; come as you are or come as you want to be. Marg had dragged her everywhere to find her perfect costume and Sansa wondered if Marg's theme was on purpose. She knew Marg resented the fact that her charms would not work on Robb and perhaps this was her way to thumb her nose at his vocation. Or, perhaps, Marg knew the sexy prospects of religious debauchery. Trying on her flame red devil's costume seemed to excite her and Sansa reaped the benefits of that in the dressing room. Margaery Tyrell might be annoying and Sansa's hatred of her based on her desire to fuck Robb was still there, but the woman was hot and knew how to use her mouth.

Sansa needed this party, this naughty little revelry, to ease some of the constant tension and conflict over the past few weeks. Her ploy to have Robb ask her to remain at the house worked, as she knew it would, but the atmosphere was anything but congenial. Robb was now more distant than ever. He went in early and worked super late and the few times they engaged in conversations it was always fraught with restraint. Her well-laid plans were crumbling. How could she get to Robb and bring down his perfect little world if he was putting up a wall and treating her politely like a stranger? He didn't even ask her to go to the lame Fall Harvest thing. Pod had asked but she declined, feigning sickness. She could have gone as Pod's date, but the thought of having to tolerate a bunch of do-gooders and seeing Myrcella act so chummy around Robb was just too much.The only time Robb showed any emotion with her in the past few weeks was when she announced she got the job she interviewed for in Denver. He offered her congratulations and took her out to an awkward dinner where she pretty just much talked about the practice she was joining and he listened. Sansa was less than thrilled about accepting the job but the money from Mom and Dad wouldn't last forever and if she asked for more they would want to know where she was and what she was doing. She couldn't have that.

Sansa sighed, trying to shrug off all frustration to concentrate at the task at hand: the task of having fun for a change. Podrick had taken some convincing to go to this party and at least she accomplished something. Pod was sweet and hard-working and a great kisser and they ended up making out every time they were together, but the man was still hesitant about fucking her, insisting they take things slow. Just how slow could a man go? A month and a half in Moletown and he still hadn't slid his dick in her. Cumming on his fingers and mouth wasn't enough anymore. Tonight was Pod's deadline, otherwise she was moving on. She knew she was projecting her sexual frustration with Robb onto him and in her more reflective moments she knew it wasn't fair, but a girl had her limits and by the stroke of midnight he would either be stroking inside her or she would find a more willing pastime plaything.

If only Podrick had chosen a priest costume. He balked at that, no doubt due to his close friendship with Robb. He chose a monk's outfit instead which Sansa thought was a coward's way out. She refused to share with him her outfit; she wanted the element of surprise when he picked her up. It was such a pity; her nun to his priest would have been perfect and probably a guarantee they wouldn't even make it to the party.

The thought of fucking Pod as a priest made her warm between her legs and she shifted, hands on her hips. 

Of course she went with the Naughty Nun getup.

She was pleased with the outfit; the only modesty was in the long hanging sleeves and annoying coif, wimple, and veil that hid most of her hair. At least with the costume the guimpe stopped to just above her breasts; from there the outfit was just plain sexy; a button-up leather corset and matching mini-skirt. Matched with thigh high leather stiletto boots to showcase her long legs, it was a pretty hot choice. Forgoing panties made it even more delectable, but Sansa wanted to take it even further. 

Along with her Rosary beads tied around her waist ( her real ones with a 24 karat gold cross, not some fake cheap plastic toy), her crowning glory was the pink crucifix dildo hanging from her neck. So blasphemous to have Jesus on a cross waiting to be inside a pussy...and she loved it. She thought it would be heavy and cumbersome but it completed her outfit and she was pretty sure there would be no other nun at the party with such a conversation piece. Painted black toenails and fingernails topped it all off, with her heavy black eyeliner and whore-red lipstick. Just looking at herself made her feel wet and she wondered if maybe she should pull on some black lace panties after all.

Smiling, humming to herself, she grabbed her long tan trench coat. She didn't want Pod to see her little number in it's full glory until they were at the party. Besides, it was cold. She hated the cold weather but it was Colorado, and no better than the climate back home.

Oh, if Robb could see her now. He would be so horrified. His sensibilities have been pussified since he entered the Seminary. No doubt he would be disgusted and dive down on his knees to pray for her to turn from her wicked, wicked ways. Poor Robb. she was far beyond any redemption and she was just fine with that.

The doorbell rang as Sansa buttoned up her coat, cinching the tie around her waist. She was going to have her fun tonight. Maybe tomorrow she would figure out her next step with Robb, but for now, she just wanted to let loose and maybe raise a little hell.

 

********************

 

"Jesus, Marg wasn't joking when she bragged over her family's home," breathed Sansa, taking in the towering mansion in the middle of major acreage of a wooded area. Eerie glowing lights accented their drive up the winding road as Pod jockeyed for a place to park in the throng of cars. With the windows rolled up Sansa could hear the laughter and banter from people hanging out on the veranda and leaning over the balcony from the second story. The Tyrell siblings had gone all out for this, apparent from the animatronics and fog machine and fake black trees. In front of the entrance way was a huge eight foot demon, leering at all who entered. She could already hear the music when Podrick opened her door.

"The Tyrells are the richest family in town. Of course their home is huge." Pod glanced at her. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Pod, I've had a rough couple of weeks, with the job hunting and all. It's Halloween and a time to actually have fun for a change." She smiled prettily. "You look pretty damn cute as a monk."

"Yeah, um, well, it was an easy costume. I got lazy. Just a robe over street clothes and rope tied as a belt. I probably should have worn the bald head thing but it just looked...wrong." He managed a small smile."You look far too beautiful to be a nun, Sansa. I mean, I've never had a nun kink until now."

"Thanks. You haven't even seen my entire costume yet," she teased, careful not to be too pushy for now. With Podrick she was always careful not to be too outwardly aggressive.

"Another five minutes and I will."

He nudged her forward and she took his arm, a little uneven on the cobblestone sidewalk thanks to her boots. They were definitely not made for walking. Fucking, yes, but not walking. She made it up the steps just fine and the door opened seemingly on its own accord. Walking in they were greeted by flashing lights in a darkened foyer, sexy dance music assaulting their ears and gyrating throngs of sinners and saints greeting their eyes. A wobbling nun approached them with a plate of what appeared to be jello shots and Sansa took one instantly while Pod shook his head. 

"Oh, c'mon Pod, this is a party after all." She slammed the tiny cup back down on the tray, eyeing the brunette nun. No competition there. "Live a little! For once stop nursing your beer and have some fun."

"Sansa! Pod!"

They heard Marg's shrill call over the bodies and music. They made their way to the left through the crowd to reach her, stopping at the start of a long, wide hallway draped in spider webs. Several settees lined one side, most were occupied by lovers making out with abandon. It was still dark but dim red lights accented the scene and upon further inspection Sansa found the couple next to the couch that Marg cleared with a wave of her hand were deeply immersed in each other as a white robed angel rode the lap of her devil lover. Marg didn't give them a second glance as she motioned for them to sit. Sansa dragged Pod down onto the settee with her.

"I'm so glad you two made it. Sansa, I absolutely need to see your costume, dear. You've already seen mine!" To emphasize, Marg twirled around haphazardly, showing off her barely-there red number. She wore thigh high red stockings with high heeled pumps, her skirt as short as Sansa's and twice as tight. Her long chestnut hair hung down with red extensions and little devil horns topped her off. 

"Where's your pitchfork, Marg?" Sansa joked.

"Up my brother's ass." She offered a sexy smirk as Pod coughed. "Speaking of which - Loras! Give me some!"  
Loras Tyrell appeared with a tray, smaller than the one Sansa took her shot from. It looked like it was filled with communion wafers in black and red. He was handsome with his light brown hair and eyes like his sister. He was dressed as an acolyte.

"You already took one, Margie. The night's still young and you need to pace yourself -"

"Fuck off." Marg swiped a wafer and placed it on her tongue licentiously. "Guys?"

Pod shook his head, opting to snatch an imported beer, snapping it open and chugging it. Sansa took a red one, placing it on her tongue. It seemed to dissolve instantly and she sucked the liquid down.

"You got about ten minutes before shit starts kicking in," Loras informed her. He was cut off by saying anything else when a tall, handsome man dressed as the Pope came up behind him to grab his ass and lick his ear. 

Present company forgotten, Loras turned around and led his partner down the corridor. Sansa giggled.

"Sansa, isn't it too warm in here? Take that coat off, I'll hang it up for you." Marg yanked her up, wasting no time stripping her of her jacket. "Jesus Holy Christ. That's fucking awesome."

"Thanks, I think so. It's the finishing touches that count." Sansa smoothed everything down primly, primping for praise.

"Sansa!" Pod looked up at her, his mouth agape. "Is that a - a -"

"A dildo. A little fuck toy. Yes, Pod. It's a real dildo." She looked down at his face and could read the disbelief, shock, and maybe a small arousal in his eyes as his gaze traveled down the length of her body. "Ribbed for my pleasure." 

Marg laughed, her red-tipped fingers gliding down the length of the dildo, over the generic rippled figure of what was supposed to represent Christ before skimming down the buttons on her corset to play with the Rosary beads draped around her waist.

"Have you fucked yourself with it yet? If not, can I have it before you leave tonight? Or do you prefer these beads up your ass?"

"Marg!" Pod chuckled nervously, downed the rest of his beer, opting for another one floating by, opening it and chugging."You're so going to hell. And I am, too, for loving the way Sansa looks in her costume."

He said it shyly, softly, and for a moment Sansa's heart softened a little. 

"Says the guy in a fucking robe and jeans and tennis shoes."

"Marg, we all know you just want to fuck a priest so you want every guy here to dress as one," Sansa replied nastily, flopping back down next to Pod.

"Touche." Marg glared at her.

"Yeah, Pod, did you not know she wants to fuck my brother?" Sansa felt her limbs relaxing and a warm flush washing over her.

"Uh -" Pod sucked down his beer.

"For your information, Sansa, I have been occupying myself lately with a very handsome man that really gets me going. I could care less about your brother."

"I'm sure." 

"Marg! Hey Marg! Come quick, I think Garlan just OD'd in the bathroom!" Loras screamed from the far end of the hallway.

"Fuck. Not again. I love my brother but he can't handle his fix for shit. Excuse me. Sansa, Pod, I'll catch up with you soon."

There was no urgency in her voice as Marg sauntered down the hall, occasionally touching the wall for support. Sansa watched her leave with detached interest. She wanted a different kind of fun tonight, but it was always good to have a backup.

"I always kind of knew she had a thing for Father Robb," muttered Pod, polishing off his second beer. "Terrible woman, going after an honorable man of the cloth."

Sansa laughed.

"Do you want to dance? I mean, I'm not much of a dancer, but there's not much else to do here besides get high and obviously have sex in the hallway." Pod nodded to the gasping couple next to them. "I should have known the Tyrells would throw this kind of party."

"Hmm. These shoes aren't sensible for cutting a rug." To emphasize the point she turned sideways and flung her long legs over Pod's lap. "They are just for show."

"Just like your sacrilegious - uh - dildo?" 

"Sure. I mean, I don't need to use it if I have something better." Coyly she retreated her legs from his lap to stand and sink down into his lap. "I don't know about you, but I came to have some fun, and I intend to have some...with you." 

As always with Pod, she had to take the initiative, so she grabbed his right hand and shoved it between her legs. His knuckles pressed into her apex.

"Sansa!" He gasped, no doubt shocked that she wore no underwear. "We're out in the open -"

"We're in a house where everyone else seems to be fucking right in front of everyone else. Do you see Robb here? Myrcella? Anyone from church? Fuck no. Your reputation is well intact, Podrick. Loosen up."

Before he could reply she slithered off of his lap, regretting the loss of contact against her shaved pussy. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, her legs slightly apart. Another devil came up to them, offering more wafers on a silver tray. Sansa took a black and red one, leaning over Pod, popping one into her mouth before kissing him, her tongue pushing the drug into his mouth before it had the chance to dissolve in her own.

"Sansa. What is this -"

"Relax, Pod. You know, you've been so sweet to me, licking my clit and finger-banging me until I cum. Yet you never want anything in return, never want to go any further. Maybe we need to take our dating to the next level."

She dropped down to her knees between his legs and pressed her hand into his groin, feeling the stiffness through his robe and jeans. It was all the encouragement she needed to push up the burlap robe up, insisting he raise up so she could hike it up around his waist. It took him a couple of seconds to protest as she grappled with his zipper on his jeans, tugging down a little.

"Sansa! What are you doing? Like I said, we can't -"

"Oh Pod, you've got nothing to be ashamed of." It was true. His cock was a nice size and she exposed it. "Besides, no one can see your cock unless they are right on my back. The robe covers you."

She was partially lying but to prevent any more protesting, she immediately bent her head, slipping the other wafer into her mouth before encasing the head of his cock with her mouth, sucking hard to dissolve her drug while tasting the flesh of his dick. The music, the voyeurs, the other people performing their own sex acts and drugging it up, it was all an aphrodisiac, creating a euphoria that Sansa always tried to reach but was never to ultimately achieve; even now, she knew it wasn't enough but it was enough for now as she sucked with vigor, twirling her tongue expertly. Looking up, she felt Pod scoot down a little, his head thrown back against the wall, neck straining. She wondered if he was starting to feel the effects of the beer or the drug or both, but it didn't matter to her as she worked him. She could sense people lingering around and watching, and a werewolf shoved an angel against the wall next to their settee before kneeling in front of her, hiking up her modest little gown before licking into her. The woman moaned but stared at Sansa. She winked at her female voyeur and would have smirked but she felt someone hover over her and almost stopped sucking, but a firm hand held her head in place.

"Keep on sucking, Sansa. It's totally hot and I'm about ready to cum just from the sight of it."

Sansa couldn't help but smile around Pod's cock.

Marg.

Usually Sansa bossed her around, but this was the Tyrell house and Sansa was in no position to do the demanding. She complied, increasing her effort, even as she felt her rosary beads disconnect and slip away from her waist. Her pussy throbbed as she felt Marg's body kneel down behind her and her hands hoisted Sansa's skirt up around her waist, exposing her bare ass to everyone within viewing distance. There was only a small perfunctory slap to her ass before she felt Marg's fingers shove into her and she moaned, trying to focus on Pod. It was hard as Marg fingered her furiously, pulling out to rub at her clit only to slam them back in again.

Dizziness swarmed in her head as she dug her fingernails into Pod's thighs, clutching for dear life. Marg was an expert and had her on the brink too soon. She could feel Pod's dick tightening and knew he was going to cum. His hands weakly tried to push her head away but she wasn't having it.

"Oh god, suck him off, Sansa. Swallow it all like you made me swallow your piss." Marg shouted out filthy curses as she withdrew her fingers only to sink two well-drenched digits into her anus. 

Pod jerked his head up at Marg's words but didn't move away, because he immediately shot warm cum down her throat. There was so much of it that Sansa nearly choked but she swallowed it down, careful so that nothing leaked out of her mouth, nearly gagging at his last thrust. She finally got Podrick Payne off -

"Ah!" Her mouth popped off of Pod's dick when she felt Marg pushing her beads into her dripping cunt before pulling them out. She spit into her ass and the beads soon followed, one at a time but in quick succession. Sansa whimpered, wanting to cum, anticipating it.

"Hope these are yours and not your brother's, you little nun whore!" 

The woman receiving head from the werewolf moaned, and Sansa heard hoots and groans and a group of guys egging Marg on. At the mention of Robb, though, Sansa froze. She tried to pull away but Marg grabbed the back of her neck. 

Her stomach churned and suddenly the fun ended. 

"Marg, stop. Stop, oh god I feel - sick!" Her vision blurred. Her cunt was swollen and dripping but ice ran through her veins. Something wasn't right.

Pod immediately reached down for her, careless that he was was still exposed, grabbing for her hands.  
Marg stopped, yanking out the beads with little thought and pulling her skirt back down. Sansa cried out at the abrupt withdraw.

"Sansa? What the hell is your problem?" Marg stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. "You were into it."

Sansa stared into Pod's eyes. His face seemed to distort, his eyes becoming blue, his hair curly. The room started to spin and she was no longer throbbing between her legs. No, it was an inferno down there, demanding satisfaction where she had received none, but her stomach felt like it was dropping to the floor -

How it came about she wasn't sure, but Pod's arms were around her, and maybe he was picking her up, she wasn't sure. Everything was black and blue and strange and she felt like she was floating. Her head was throbbing. She was being carried but it seemed like Pod was stumbling beside her -

"Sansa? Sansa! Loras, put her here on the couch. Fucking goddamn it, Sansa. What did you take? Sansa!" A slap to her face brought Marg into focus, her expression one of worry or fear. 

"She had some jello shot thing at the door and two of those communion wafer thingamabobs." Pod's voice sounded odd, slurred. Sansa thinks Marg asks Pod what he had but she's not sure. She wants to retch and lose it all over Marg's parent's couch. She could see Robb's judging face in front of her. Such a slut. That's what she was. A total fucked-up little slut and a disgrace to her family and her brother, her lover. She was so terrible her own brother didn't want her. He left her far behind and he was right to abandon what they were but he needed to pay for her pain. She wanted to ruin him but she was ruining herself. No, she already ruined herself the minute she wanted her brother to touch her -

Cool wetness wiping between her legs. No, he used heat. Warm, scalding hot cloth to cleanse her. She pushed her pelvis up, trying to catch the friction and feeling -

"Sansa, are you listening? I cleaned you up. Robb's been called, he's coming to pick you up. You can't go home smelling like sex and pussy juice, for fuck's sake, Sansa!" Another slap. Marg must be enjoying this. Usually it was her getting the slaps and liking it. "Stay with me! Say something. I can't fucking call the ambulance!"

"Something." It rolled off a numbed tongue. "No Robb, no, no Robb. Pod can drive -"

"Pod can't fucking drive either. He's had three beers and a wafer. There was no one else to call and I know Father Robb is sober. Maybe he can pull some strings and get you two discreetly seen at the hospital. You took too much shit, Sansa."

Panic and shame filled her. Shame, a feeling she thought was long forgotten. Robb would see her like this. Robb, the perfect priest. Pure and good, never touched a drug, never sucked anyone off in a crowd of cheering people. Pure as his sweet fucking little Myrcella who was good and kind and untainted. She could not let Robb see her. He would see her making a mockery of his vocation. 

"Robb." She sobbed then, even as her body tingled with a strange pleasure. "Everything's ruined. Everything. He can't see - he can't see me, no -" 

Someone lifted her up and she felt her coat on her body again, buttoned up to hide most of her costume, hide her disgrace.

She felt her head being pushed as she puked into something - a bucket or tin can or plastic bag. Sweat seemed to run out of her pores but she wanted to cum. That little bitch edged her on purpose and left her wanting. She'd pay for that. She'd pay.

"Sansa." A cool hand brushed her forehead. "Sansa, I'm taking you out of here." His voice, so smooth and sexy but reassuring at the same time. Instantly she calmed and panicked simultaneously.

She meant to say she was sorry but nothing came out and she was lifted into arms that did not feel so strange. She wanted to bury her face into his neck but her head and her arms were like jelly. She couldn't hold him, couldn't do anything but flop her head back. Everything was flashing lights and noise as she floated out of wherever she was through the hall, the smell and sounds of sex all around them. Out, out, onto the cool air and somehow, somehow she was slumped into a seat, the click of a seat belt like a bomb detonating in her head. Cool air whipped around her face and she suddenly needed him to yell at her, scold her, tell her she was fucked up and needed help. She needed him to stop being so damn careful and just tell her the truth. She needed something more than this frighteningly quiet being next to her. This quiet, frigid being beside her was someone she wanted to stop the car right now and fuck her until she couldn't walk. She tried to focus but he was a mess of colors in a blur. 

Instead she closed her eyes and welcomed the nightmares mocking and flashing behing her lids. It was more acceptable than her reality...


	14. The Taste Of Sin

"Father Robb, you know you don't have to hover over me. I am sure there are far more people you can visit in here, and more in dire need than I."

"Nonsense, Wylla. I've already made my rounds and I can spend some time with you -"

"Liar. It's almost midnight? I doubt you are making rounds. You are just trying to make me feel better."

Robb leaned over from his seat, his hand scooping up her small, frail one, careful not to disturb the IV, while his bible rested on his knee in the other. He smiled gently in reassurance even as his heart panicked for the usually feisty Wylla Manderly. 

"Who gets the flu in October anyway," she whispered, her eyes sporting dark circles. Her free hand moved to smooth over her swelled belly.

"Tomorrow is November, and plenty of people. This year's strain is supposed to be severe. Your Dad was right to bring you in. We need you to be strong for your baby and home remedies are not a guarantee."

"Mmm. So here you are way past visiting hours. You're tired, too. You have my bags." She weakly gestured to her eyes. "No offense but I don't want any more kids after this. It's been a lesson I've learned."

"Children are a blessing from God, Wylla, not a punishment."

"Do you ever regret it? Giving up the chance to be an actual dad, I mean."

"You are my child, Wylla, you and everyone in the church. I have more family than I could ever ask for, and I am blessed in that." Robb eased back into his uncomfortable chair, his collar feeling suddenly restrictive.

"Yeah. I can see that, I guess." She managed a small smile. "Do you ever wear normal clothes when you're in a hospital? I guess your priest shirt is normal clothes. Whatever."

"It allows me through past visiting hours," he joked. "No one dares to refuse a priest."

Wylla snickered before she winced a little, rubbing her belly.

"Did you know Sansa stopped by last week? She gave me the prettiest prayer shawl for the baby. Pretty cool that it's the color of my hair. Well at least the way it was."

Robb's tired mind searched for the memory and came up blank.

"I know she worked on the diligently," he offered. "Sansa was always good with a needle." She was. Sansa was good at anything if she put her mind to it. Suddenly he felt pride.

"She's pretty cool. Mom and Dad seem to like her a lot. She had dinner with us and everything. Since I'm bedridden she helped me do some things, too. I wish I had a sister like her. You're lucky."

Robb's phone vibrated, saving him from replying. Wylla withdrew her hand and waved him on, closing her eyes. He frowned. Podrick's number. Sansa was supposed to be out with him tonight -

 _Hey Father Robb, we need a pickup. Sansa's too sick to drive. BTW this is Marg. Pod's 2 drunk 2 text. 1289 Rosebud Lane but you've been here before for my parents so you know. Please come quick Sansa's pretty bad off and might need checked out_.

"A priest's work is never done. Go, Father Robb, I'm not going anywhere. Probably just sleep even though I've had a lifetime of sleep in the past few months. Thank you, though, for stopping in. You know, spiritual guidance and comfort and all that."

"I'll be back in the morning, before Mass, I promise." Robb smiled, leaned forward, and kissed her on her clammy forehead, careful not to disturb her, before texting off a quick reply that he would be there ASAP. Wylla was only fifteen but lying there she seemed even younger, so fragile. She was a good kid, usually strong and opinionated but very protective of her family and friends. She was smart, too, and she still had a bright future ahead of her.

"Sure, see you at like 5 am? No, just let a girl sleep." She smiled, "Maybe after Mass. I am sure I'll be released tomorrow. I'm not dehydrated now or anything."

"Very well. Goodbye, Wylla. And goodbye to your little angel."

He afforded her a last look and smile before stoically walking out of her room. Once out of sight he broke into a near run, the panic clutching at his chest, only realizing once he was in the car and peeling away that he had left his bible on the edge of Wylla's bed.

The Tyrell mansion was just on the edge of the north side of town. He ignored the speed limit and ran practically every red light to reach the residence in record time. Thankfully it was late and traffic was pretty much non-existent, but parking close to the house was a terrible feat, so Robb just drove through the lawn straight up to the front porch, narrowly missing a huge devil and a zombie looking thing. There weren't many people on the veranda because of the chill in the air but Robb knew a party was going on full blast in the house even before he burst into the foyer.

His eyes squinted, the dimmed lighting and flashing colors making it difficult to see. Everywhere he looked there were variations of angels, priests, nuns, demons, devils; clergy and monsters. He thought Margaery could at least have been waiting by the door -

"Ohh, Father, let me sin with you!" A voice from behind startled him and he turned, only to be accosted by a blonde woman standing near to his height in stacked heels and Catholic schoolgirl outfit. She held something in her hand that she proceeded to shove in his mouth before attempting to kiss him. Whatever it was dissolved before he could spit all of it back out and he pulled away from the woman. He meant to ask if she knew where Margaery was but it died on his lips as he heard his name.

"Father Robb! Robb!" He moved through the throng of people and spotted Margaery. He reached her in no time and he followed her into the study, where Sansa was lying on a couch, her hands clutching the belt of her coat. Pod was sitting in a high backed chair looking ill but relatively alert until he saw Robb, then a look of an apologetic, sheepish man caught in the act crossed his face.

Robb could see nothing but Sansa and his stomach dropped when he took in her nun's coif and wimple. She had decided to dress as a nun. Not just an average one, if her spiked black boots and trashy makeup were any indications. Still, he shoved it in the back of his mind as he didn't hesitate to lean down and touch her forehead. She was warm.

"Sansa." He swallowed. His tongue felt numb. "Sansa, I'm taking you out of here." Her eyes stayed closed

"Pod called an Uber," offered Marg. She didn't look so good either, her lead lolling and body swaying.

Without any regard to anyone else, he picked Sansa up. She didn't cling to him and it worried him but he managed to spirit her out of the house fairly quickly and poured her into the car as gently as she could. She was moving - that was something - but she slumped up against the door, even though he let the window down for some fresh air. He'd been to too many frat parties his freshman and sophomore year in college to not know some basics to help with over drinking. Unfortunately, he didn't know what she drank.

"Sansa?" She said nothing. "Sansa! Can you hear me?" Silence. "If you don't answer me we are going straight to the hospital. What did you do?"

"Pod." Her tone was low, slow.

"I'm Robb, Sansa, not Pod."

She rolled her head over to look at him and smiled. Her red lipstick was smeared.

"I did Pod. Well I mean I blew him. In front of everyone." A strangled giggle escaped.

Robb gripped the steering wheel. 

"Mmm I don't know. Some communion wafers. Yummy. College brand jello shot. Marg didn't let me cum. That bitch."

 _Talking in sentences and eyes opened. Good sign_. Robb headed back home, hoping no one was hanging around the parish house at this time of night. The last thing he needed was to explain this. He didn't know what the wafers were and although he asked her, he knew she didn't know either.

"Wafers. The body of Christ. I sucked the body of Christ. Mmm. Like I sucked Pod." Her giggle speared through Robb's head, which was starting to feel cloudy. He should be angry at her, should reprimand her, but now wasn't the time and he felt warmth spreading through his limbs, even as the cold whipped through the window. He didn't want to hear about how she went down on Podrick Payne. True or not, he didn't want to know. Though it would explain her lipstick -

Somehow, some way, he made his way safely home and managed to carry Sansa upstairs to her room, even though he realized he was as high as a kite from whatever got stuffed into his mouth by the time he laid her down on the bed. A shaky hand reached down to rid her of her headdress as she looked up at him with glassy eyes. Her long hair spilled down and he ran his fingers down through the messy stands. It felt like silk ribbons. She remained passive and he wavered a little before reaching for the ties on her coat.

It was then she protested, slapping his hand away.

"I'm not a child. Treat me like a woman or leave me alone."

Robb backed away, a lull washing over him and he found himself in the bathroom, splashing cold water over his face. It helped, a little, though his whole body felt lucid, like jelly, like he was floating, and his cock was rock hard against his black pants. Mocking him. He stared at his reflection before closing his eyes, then opening them again. His image seemed to darken then smile back at him with knowing eyes.

Snapping into a frenzy, he yanked the washcloth from the ring holder and ran cold water over it, making the effort to turn the faucet off. He would wipe her face down and take her coat and boots off and let her sleep it off. Just as he would. Sleep it all off, let himself sink into a sweet oblivion and maybe - just maybe he could sleep tonight. But the image. The image of her on her knees for Podrick. Podrick. Like Harry. 

Like himself.

He gripped the washcloth in his hands and the excess water dripped over his knuckles. He washed her cunt once. Maybe now he needed to wash her mouth. She enjoyed it, him washing her little cunt. She enjoyed everything they did together, his sweet little Sansa, his sweet little whore.

No.

God never gives you more than you can handle. He could handle this. He could overcome whatever drug that was coursing through his system and he could manage Sansa. It was Sansa, after all. 

He shuffled back in to her room and the washcloth dropped, forgotten as he stared.

Sansa was lying on the bed, her coat tossed carelessly to the floor. She was tugging unsuccessfully with one hand at the buttons of an extremely tight corset, her breasts pushed up and spilling over so much that he could see the top pink flesh of her areolas. Around her waist were her rosary beads. He recognized them as hers. Her boots were still on and her skimpy leather skirt was far too short. From his standing position he could see straight up to her bald cunt and he stared, stared, like a man hungering as his heart beat in rapid time. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed. Desperately he wanted to touch himself, to lessen some of the ache, give himself some relief but his hands clenched at his side as his eyes traveled to the object her other hand had clasped over as if to hide it away from his gaze. But the thing was too long and thick to hide, even as she snapped it away from the necklace she wore and tried to hide it by shoving it under the pillow. A sex toy in the shape of a cross. With something on it.

Jesus Christ.

He stumbled over to her but his hands reached for her rosary beads and he grappled for the clasp.

"Robb! What -"

"I won't let you defile a sacred object for prayers to God. You can defile a toy and your body all you want, but you leave this alone. I'm getting you decent clothes."

The beads slipped away from her easily and he gripped them, using all his will to turn away towards the dresser where he knew she kept her casual attire. It took all of his concentration to open up the top drawer and rummage for some modest night clothes. Her giggling caught his attention and he raised his eyes to the mirror above the dresser to catch her reflection and wish he hadn't. She had pushed her knees up and spread her legs open, and her hand emerged from the pillow, holding the phallic crucifix.

"Too late, Father Robb. Too late." She ran her tongue along the length of her blasphemous toy, stopping to circle around the raised center. "I can fuck Christ, Father Robb. He's not a priest but my cunt doesn't care."

Robb stood transfixed, frozen, helpless, the clothing forgotten as he gripped the edge of the dresser for control. His heart reached his mouth and he struggled for breath. He could deceive himself, it was a reflection, he wasn't watching her, he was just looking at a reflection, a false image, it wasn't her true self, no. Her black tipped fingers dipped down to spread her pussy lips wide - oh, pink. So pink, still so lovely, as pink as the tongue that lapped around the lighter pink dildo, a trail of spittle clinging, oozing down to the curved tip. Robb's hand gripped his sister's rosary beads so hard he might have cracked them, might have cut his hand, it might be bleeding but all he could do was watch, stare as she hiked her skirt up to her waist and slid the dildo - Christ side down - to glide back and forth on her folds, her other fingers spreading her lips even further. Red lips bitten, her look of defiance - desire burned him like a flame, a flickering flame of hellfire, like the fire of her hair surrounding the pillow, her little giggles and sighs filling the room. He knew he should pray for strength, resistance, but he couldn't. 

"Holy Mary, Mother of God -" He gasped, his mouth salivating yet his throat was dry. "Pray for us - for -" He felt a vibration in his pocket. Phone. His phone. Vibrations that swarmed his mind. He fumbled for it, pulling it out but dropping it to the floor. " Hail Mary, full of grace- full of -"

"Pray for me to cum, brother. Pray for Christ to get me off!"

He felt faint, sweat forming across his forehead. Sansa moved to violate herself with her toy, pushing the tip in, face down, her hand gripping the cross handle. Her small, neat hole would be welcoming - he knew the wet heat of her, the softness, the tight cling of her walls around his tongue, his cock -

He pressed her beads to his forehead, his eyes closing for a moment. His frantic, fragmented mind struggled for a prayer and he willed his legs to move, to let him flee but all they did was tremble. He brought the beads to his lips, to kiss them reverently, to seek a presence of God in the mist of his need, to pray for control, to overcome the drug in his body and in his mind, but found nothing except the scent of her. Inhaling, he could almost taste her, the residue on his toothbrush, her beads smelled the same, more fresh, more aromatic and the sharp craving flashed like lightning in his belly straight to his pleading cock. His tongue flicked out, seeking more, receiving nothing - 

"Robb - ah, Father Robb -"

Her voice floated over to him, mocking, sweet, begging and demanding and seductive. His body answered her, begging her wordlessly for some kind of mercy even as her beads fell from his hand, both rosary and phone forgotten and powerless against the urge to just have one full taste.

Before he knew how it happened he grabbed her legs, pulling her towards the edge of the bed, eliciting a surprised squeal. A hand gripped the top of her thigh high boot, digging into the leather, sliding up to feel the sweaty smooth skin above the rim. His other hand grasped the handle of her partially in dildo and he twisted it so the face and body faced upwards, thrusting in to the hilt, fucking her. Her shriek and moans assaulted his ears as he felt her whole body writhe and shake. She was already wet, the sucking sounds increasing his desperation as his tongue coaxed out her clit. his mouth latching around. The sweet flesh tasted like pure damnation, like the best parts of heaven but as he licked and sucked furiously, it wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough to hear her cries and feel her thrusting hips. Her laughter had since died and he heard her crying out, strangled whimpers and curses. Or were they his? 

Robb yanked out the offending object from her pussy, throwing it to the floor and gripping both hands on her thighs to hold her still as he drove his tongue inside her. Her walls instantly clamped down around his tongue, the secretions he was seeking drenching and flooding. Drinking, tasting, filling his mouth he went in deep, fucking her, taking her, submitting to her will, feeling sharp talons scraping his skull, shoving his face into her, his nose pushed into her damp flesh. 

"Ah, fuck! Oh god, my god!" Over and over she moaned, music better than the choir of angels, until she screamed out his name as pulses flickered around his tongue and her insides flooded his mouth with even sweeter juices, long since abandoned but never, ever forgotten, and he sucked them in. If he could he would drain her in the church chalice and drink her sacred wine at Mass - 

He meant to stay there forever but he pulled away, her hands freeing him, only to bury his face back into her, licking her swollen center for anything he had left behind. Down he collapsed onto the wooden floor, the boards cool against his heated back. Above him the patterned ceiling seemed to swirl as his cock throbbed painfully. How long he laid there he did not know. Minutes, hours, days, time had no meaning when he had the taste of his sister's cum in his mouth. 

Robb jerked up to a sitting position, his neck painfully aching and his stomach churning. His mouth felt parched and he flicked his tongue over dry lips. For a moment he wondered where he was before it came over him.

He was in the spare room, Sansa's temporary room.

Shakily he stood. His head was pounding and he noticed sunrise peeking through the pretty white curtains. Cautiously he approached Sansa, lying on her back, sleeping. Streaks of black ran down both sides of her eyes and her lipstick was smeared. She still wore her Halloween outfit sans headpiece, and her boots shined in the sunlight. Her skirt was pulled back down as modestly as it could be. Her chest rose and fell in a normal fashion, something Robb was glad for even as he swallowed nervously.

He thought to wake her but then cringed at the idea. Instead, he quietly turned and tiptoed out of the room, leaning down to sweep up the washrag on the way out. It was no longer wet but merely damp. Robb made his way to the bathroom to run it under warm water, adding a smidgen of liquid soap, testing the temperature.

When he returned he gently wiped away the black tear-stained smudges and offending lipstick, leaving her face clean. He looked upon her for a moment before the realization of what had happened set in. Numb, horrified, he silently made his way to the closet to retrieve a blanket to cover her up and turned to leave like a thief in the night, stopping short to pick up his phone and her beads. The phone slipped into his pocket and the beads were placed gently on the dresser. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror and he pivoted abruptly to leave but spotted the dildo lying on the floor. He swept it up, bringing it to his nose before he could stop himself. Within seconds he bolted to the bathroom to toss the offending piece into the wastebasket.

What had he done.

Dear God, what had he done.

Sansa.

He sat down on the toilet seat, his hands shaking. The flavor of her was still in his mouth and even though he was guilt-stricken, he knew he didn't want to rid himself of the taste. 

Focus. He had to focus. What time was it anyway? He feared it was past time for mass and when he whipped out his phone to check, he was relieved to find out he had time to shower and get his bearings, but he also had seven messages and three voicemails.

Myrcella, Podrick, Mr. Manderly, Mrs. Manderly -

Sighing, he went to his voicemail.

All of them asking to call him, nothing else said. He hit Myrcella's number, hoping she would answer.

"Father Robb." Her voice was not the usual melodic sound, but somber. "Oh, Father, something has happened. Were you asleep and your phone turned off? I'm so sorry. I'm do so sorry -"

"Myrcella. What is it?" His words were rough, scratchy. "Tell me."

"It's - it's Wylla, Robb." His mind couldn't process anything except she called him without his title. "Robb. Everyone tried to call you to come to the hospital, but - she's gone, she's gone. Wylla died. The baby, the baby too -"

Robb could hear the crying, soft and gentle as the person it emitted from, but then he heard nothing as his phone dropped to the floor. He stood, not knowing what to do, what to think, or where to go - Wylla - she had needed him and he was -

Suddenly his stomach lurched and he turned to kneel, lifting up the seat and losing the contents of everything he had. He clutched the sides for support until it was over and he flushed, still kneeling, wavering.

It was a good position to beg God's forgiveness as he no longer could taste his sister. His sin.


	15. Casserole And Guilt

The clatter of the casserole dish in the sink seemed to echo as Sansa scrubbed it clean. She cursed the archaic house for not having a dishwasher as she rinsed and placed it in the strainer. Dishes seemed beneath her and she was washing and drying more now than she ever had in her life.

As usual the house was too still and sometimes she was thankful her apartment was only a couple of weeks away from being move-in ready. She never thought she would be as it would place her at a disadvantage when it came to Robb, but since he was never home anyway, it wouldn't make much difference. Maybe she could take advantage of her new place to regroup, rethink, rebuild all she had been doing for over a month and a half - longer if she counted her confession and donations - and succeed in her plans. She had been getting there, was so fucking close to the prize, then that Manderly girl had to up and die.

Quickly she dried off the dish and open the cabinet door to return it where she had found it to make a potato casserole dinner to take over to the Manderly's. Her instinct was to avoid the whole fucking mess; she barely knew Wylla and she tolerated Mrs. Manderly - hell, she merely tolerated all of the snotty church bitches - but she was asked by the family to be there so she went, less out of concern and more to keep an eye on Robb and Myrcella.

She knew Robb was taking Wylla's and her baby's death pretty hard. It was all over his face, his red-rimmed eyes and dark bags under them; he looked haggard, beaten, tired. Granted, she had only really seen him from a short distance' during the Vigil service the night before and the funeral this morning, he kept away from her, not looking her way and not even speaking to her, preferring to lean on Myrcella for support while Deacon Sam handled most of the intricacies. Damn that girl, always there by his side, acting in a sisterly way that was not lost on Sansa. 

_Well, at least she's never had Robb's mouth on her cunt_.

Frustrated, she slammed the cabinet door. It didn't matter; Robb wasn't around anyway. He was still at Manderly's. 

She couldn't remember much about Halloween night, not after she fell sick in the hallway. Everything seemed hazy, coming to her like a dream when she thought about it. She knew he was there. There were bruises on her upper thighs above where her boots started, and there were tiny pieces of auburn hair stuck under her nails. She thinks she can remember pressing him into her, his mouth frantic and hot, and she came, didn't she? It was all a jumbled mess and maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. What should have left her basking in triumph instead had her striving to remember anything.

She was sure it happened. Why else would Robb be avoiding her like the plague?

Oh, well, there was the _costume_ thing.

And the being at a _hedonistic party all drugged-out_ thing.

Waking up from it all had been a nightmare. Her ass ached as she recalled Marg using her own beads on her. Robb had covered her with her blanket but did not undress her, and she wasted no time peeling off her boots and costume, sweeping the hood from the floor and crumpling everything into a pile to be tossed in the trash later. Her blasphemous dildo was discovered in the bathroom trash as she stumbled groggily on the way in; did she do that? Or was it Robb? She could feel the thing twisting inside her, fucking her, but her hands were up by her face, it was Robb. He fucked her with it. She had looked into the mirror, staring at her pale face, her makeup nearly gone. An ache resonated between her legs, like she had been fucked hard, but all she could do was stare at her reflection.

It didn't take her long to shower and dress in modest clothes, not that it mattered; Robb was not in the house. When she checked her phone she had several messages and voicemails, but none from the only one she wanted to hear from. Any thoughts of victory turned sour when she learned of Wylla and the baby's demise; Wylla had eclampsia and hemorrhaging during an emergency c-section; the baby was stillborn. Obviously having the flu did not help the situation. She listened as Podrick told her but she felt nothing except maybe she should apologize for blowing him in front of everyone, but he didn't mention what happened and she did not bring it up. She wanted to, but decided to make the attempt to be sympathetic. Her empathy only appeared in the form of a bitter resentment towards Wylla and her parents; at Wylla for being so fucking dumb to get knocked up at fifteen, and at her parents for allowing - or forcing her - to go through with the pregnancy. In this day and age most Catholics were not above using birth control. Hell, mother put her on it at age fourteen to ease her heavy and painful menstrual cycles, then of course made her promise not to tell a soul, especially any boys.

The only one she ever told was Robb.

He always kept her secrets.

She wanted to see Robb, get him alone, but the past several days he was never alone. He didn't come home to sleep at night, either; pride prevented her from texting him to ask where he was, and she refused to ask anyone else, for fear it would get back to Robb. She reasoned he must be staying at the Manderly farm, or the church. She ventured into the church once or twice, only to find the office doors locked. A gnawing feeling in her gut appeared when she briefly wondered if he was camping out at Myrcella's and she wanted to find out through Margaery's thoughtless chatter, but she would not answer her calls or messages for a hookup.

Defeat was not a color Sansa wore humbly, so she forced herself to attend the evening vigil with everyone practically declaring the girl some kind of saint; and then the funeral, flanked by Myrcella and Mrs. Karstark. Weepy, sensitive women, the both of them. She had forgotten how long Catholic funerals were and each minute seemed like days. Podrick barely spoke and she witnessed Margaery being cozy with Tommen Baratheon while the lusty woman only gave her a mere wink. Her nails dug into her palms, hoping the pain would stop her from wanting to claw everyone's eyes out, her only focus centering on her flawlessly speaking brother, looking like death warmed over but still so even in his words. She stared into him, willing him to throw a glance her way, but his eyes skipped over her. An image flashed in her memory, of those eyes staring up at her in hunger from between her legs, and she felt confident. Bolstered. It was all ruined once she arrived at the Manderly's with her covered dish, spotting Myrcella hovering over Robb like a mother goose smothering her gosling. The way he looked at her, the sad smile and sympathetic expression, it was too much. She suffered as long as she could before she made her graceful exit, driving to Mary's for a quick shot of vodka before heading back to an empty house filled with annoying religious symbols and boredom.

At least all those people polished off her casserole.

Sansa sighed. It was late now, almost eleven. Well, it wasn't too late for her but Robb would have been home and in bed by now. Another night without him here. How could she bend him to her will and break him if he wasn't around?

She head the unmistakable sound of the door opening and closing. It was a careful, quiet sound and Sansa flipped her hair back, straightening her shoulders, moving to steady her hands on the back of a kitchen table chair, ready to charm and beguile and tempt. 

Robb shuffled into the kitchen and met her stare for only a second before flitting his eyes over to the coffee pot. He was still dressed in his black pants and collared black shirt. His clothes were impeccably pressed and his shoes still had a shine, but that shine did not reach his eyes.

"I'm surprised you came home," she blurted out before abruptly stopping. She sounded like an accusing housewife.

"I haven't showered in four days. I think I will make a cup of coffee before I shower and go to bed." His fingers ran through his curls. "It has been a long four days."

"Sit, Robb." She noticed he wavered a little as his fingers brushed across his brow. "Let me at least get the coffee started for you."

"No, Sansa. I'll just shower and go to bed. Coffee was a bad idea. Goodnight."

Panic bubbled up inside. This was the first time they were alone together and the first time he as spoken to her since Halloween night. If she stood passively by the opportunity would be missed. Her old self would just hang her head and let him go upstairs, but she was not a girl anymore and her determination prevailed as she reached out to grab his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stiffened, recoiled and she couldn't help but think of Myrcella grabbing his arm and he responded by drawing her into a hug, sharing a moment of mutual mourning. Still, he turned around to look at her and he winced, his eyes looking glassy. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. She swallowed.

"Robb, wait, please. I want to say I'm - I'm sorry for Marg having you come out to pick me up. I was just having some fun and it got out of hand. I never do that kind of thing -" A lie among many. Lies came so easy now. "Well, I just -"

He shrank away from her and she let him.

"One of my parishioners and her child just died, Sansa."

"Yes, and I am very sorry, Robb." She tried to sound contrite. 

He said nothing, merely rubbing the back of his neck. Something about him was off. Yes, he was sad, and no doubt tired, but there was something more. She wanted to turn the conversation back around to them, not Wylla Manderly. This was going to prove a difficult task.

"Robb, I haven't been able to talk to you, offer my condolences and help. If there's anything you need -" 

"Can you take the image away of a fifteen year old girl lying dead, a stillborn child lying dead before my eyes while I prayed over them?"

"Robb -"

"It should get easier and it never does. Time goes on and I think it shouldn't haunt me, but it does. I'm not supposed to feel that way, but I do."

"You're human. Of course it hurts." 

"Perhaps God has seen fit to punish me for my sins." Robb wandered to pull out a chair, slumping into it, his elbows placed on the table, head in hands.

"By killing a young girl and her unborn child? And what kind of God would do that? It wasn't God who killed them, Robb. It was a medical oddity, or maybe even her parents could be blamed for not getting her a damn abortion, or Wylla herself for not keeping her legs crossed or being too stupid to not use birth control. We can play the blame game if you'd like but take yourself out of the causes." 

"I could not even manage to be there to administer Last Rights. No, instead I was passed out on a bedroom floor. I could blame the drug I ingested. But to do so would deceive myself. I gave in to a desire of the flesh and Wylla paid the price -" He jerked his head up to stare at her bleary-eyed. He seemed to shiver.

"The Robb I knew would call that train of thought ridiculous. You have been brainwashed."

She exalted internally. He admitted it. It wasn't just a dream; it had been a reality but suddenly Sansa felt robbed. She couldn't remember anything vividly and whatever truly happened it wasn't enough. He had not fallen completely. And looking at him now, a small thread of compassion dared to run through her. She pushed it aside. She was not here for understanding.

"You did not know me, Sansa. You proved that. What we were, how we were as children, as teenagers, and what we became. You still did not know. I thought you knew me. I thought I knew you." His tongue ran across his thick bottom lip as he closed his eyes for a moment and blanched.

"Robb?" Hesitantly she swept a hand to his forehead, shocked. "You are burning up."

"I'm fine, Sansa, I just need to shower and sleep. Maybe God can grant me that much tonight. I'll do my penance in the morning." To affirm his statement he pushed back his chair with a flourish and turned to leave, but stumbled, barely catching himself.

"Robb!" Sansa lurched forward, wrapping her arms around him. "Robb, you're sick. We need to get you to Urgent Care, or even the ER." She was shocked at how damp his shirt felt."Please."

At least he didn't jerk away from her, but he turned his face away as he nodded in a meek acceptance. She knew it wasn't from revulsion of her but because he was afraid he would make her sick. For a moment she tried to recall if he had kissed her. No, she couldn't remember kissing. He did something much more satisfying than that -

"Funny, I challenged God to strike me down for what I did. Is it to late to tell Him I was just being an asshole about it?"

"There you go, being ridiculous again." She helped him as he walked through the living room, where she swiped her keys off of the TV stand. 

The irony wasn't lost on her as she made sure Robb made it to the car okay, grabbing his jacket and hers on the way out. It was cold and starting to sleet and they needed their coats. She realized somehow Robb had been slipped a drug when he picked her up and she wondered who gave it to him. There was no way he would just take something; it had to be forced on him somehow. She wondered if Margaery might know what had happened.

She felt disappointed. After all, what he did was only done because he ingested something to make him feel sexual. It wouldn't have mattered if it was her spreading her legs or some other woman; it was the drugs that compelled him to do what he did. 

"Not good enough," she muttered, turning the ignition. "Not good enough."

There was no doubt Robb had the flu. Now he would be down for days and next week she would be starting her job, and the week after that, her new apartment would be available. How would she ever be able to get close to him again -

Suddenly she smiled a small, wicked smile as she turned to her feverish, sick, guilt-stricken brother.

A God-given opportunity just presented itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic by sansafeels. :) 
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165748359@N03/43865136724/in/dateposted-public/)


	16. Dark Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Flashback and a Present Time sequence are both included in this chapter. Because some of my readers are sensitive to overly long italics, I decided to not use them for the lengthy flashback, instead opting to use (Ten Years Ago) and (Present Day) to distinguish the switch. Thanks, and... enjoy! :)

****(Ten Years Ago)****

Robb checked his phone again, cursing under his breath as he pulled into the driveway. He was undeniably popular, receiving fifteen texts just in the short drive from the store, but he hastily deleted them before tossing the offending cell onto the passenger seat of his SUV. None of them were Sansa, so he didn't care.

He gritted his teeth as he parked, and he stopped. He remembered having Sansa on his mind the last time he was irate in the driveway. Not too long ago it had been anger over Harry being alone with Sansa in the house; now it was frustration over her blatant avoidance. He was ready to start winter semester at the University in just a few days' time and Jon hooked them up with a nice apartment just off campus. He tried to weasel out of it, saying he wanted to live at home this semester and commute, but Jon laughed at that. No self-respecting twenty year old would prefer their parents' house over a bachelor pad with his cousin and best friend. Robb couldn't tell him the real reason he would willingly tolerate being under Mom and Dad's roof.

Sansa.

Letting out a small breath, he grabbed his phone, shoving it into his coat pocket before snatching up the small bag of groceries Mom sent him after, practically sprinting out of the car. He had sent so many texts to his sweet little Sansa; some naughty, some nice, and even some explicit pictures with his face discreetly hidden, but she responded to none of them, leaving him deflated. He would have been completely discouraged had it not been for the way she was deliberately trying to avoid his gaze and avoid being alone with him. School has started back up for her this week and it was easy to escape him during the day, but in the evenings he abandoned his social life, his focus only on Sansa. 

Unfortunately she made sure she was around their siblings or parents, leaving no opportunity to talk to her alone. At night she had taken to sleeping in Arya's room and Arya didn't seem to mind too much... but Robb did. Now with him leaving they would be separated with nothing but the memory of New Year's Eve hot on his brain. It wasn't good enough.

The house was quiet. He found it odd and after setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter, he meandered into the den, where he found Bran and Rickon playing on their Xbox. He asked them where everyone was, and while Bran shrugged, Rickon offered up that Mom and Dad and Arya went over to their Aunt Lysa's for a little while. He tried to keep his voice noncommittal when asking where Sansa was - hoping to God she wasn't at Harry's - and was rewarded with Rickon stating she was finishing up the laundry down in the basement. His cock inadvertently twitched at the thought of finally getting a moment alone with her as he left his brothers to hang up his coat and make his way down to the finished basement. 

They lived in practically a mansion, at least by Winterfell's standards; Dad was a successful businessman and it showed in their dwelling. Once upon a time Robb had wanted to be like his father; well known and well-respected in the community and wealthy, but then he wanted to go into forensics; now... all he wanted was Sansa. She wanted him, too, and he understood her more than anyone else ever would; he knew her dreams, her desires, her needs and wants. He was her brother, yes, but they had danced around the sexual feelings for so long and it seemed so right to him, no matter how wrong everyone would think it was. He experienced a euphoria with her that he never had with another girl and he didn't know if it was from the love he had for her or the sheer taboo aspect of what they were doing, and he didn't care to analyze it too much. He reduced it down to the barest common denominator; he wanted to fuck her and she wanted to be fucked. She needed him to dominate her and he liked dominating her. It made him feel in control of himself even though he has never been so helpless.

Shucking his shoes off, he quietly opened the door and stepped lightly down the carpeted steps into the family room complete with bar and pool table and a big screen TV in front of plush couches and sauntered into the laundry room, shutting the door behind him, swallowing hard, staring at his sister.

Sansa was in the middle of taking clothes out of the dryer. She was clad only in black yoga pants and a black bra, her hair in a messy ponytail. He had seen her in a lot less but the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of her and he jammed clenched fists into his pockets. She turned her head to look at him, startled, a dark pink blush creeping up her pale cheeks, before she turned away to hurriedly fish out the rest of the clothes, apparently looking for a clean top to cover herself with. He meant to demand why she was ignoring his texts, angrily ask her what kind of game she was playing, but anything he meant to say died on his lips as he rushed over and grabbed her by the arm to twirl her around to look at him. He wanted to tell her to look at him, talk to him like he was a human being, but all he could do was stare down into her large blue eyes before kissing her soft, opened mouth roughly, hungrily.

She struggled at first but as he held her arms fast he noted with satisfaction she responded to his mouth after a few seconds, her slim body pressing into his. Again, and again, he kissed her soundly, deep with meaning and possession. His hands loosened their grip on her when he was sure enough she wouldn't try to escape.They confidently flew behind her smooth back to fumble with the hooks on her bra, sliding it down from her shoulders and yanking it off, tossing it somewhere near the basket. No sooner did his hands skim around to the front to cup her breasts did she break their kissing, turning her head to the side, refusing to meet his eyes, even as she gasped in tiny whimpers.

"We can't. Bran, Rickon -" Her thin hands flew up in protest. "Robb -"

His response was to ignore her hands and lean down to kiss a hard, pink nipple before sucking, tasting her delicate flesh while a hand slid down her waist to the top of her yoga pants. His fingers caressed the exposed skin just above the band before gliding down into them and into the barrier of her panties. She was as smooth as silk and - when he delved further - already wet. Sansa smothered a tiny moan, as if she was trying to suppress any evidence that she was craving this as much as he was.

His mouth latched harder onto her nipple, biting, drawing a sharp cry but of pleasure or pain he didn't know, so he let go with a long lick before kissing up to her neck, to her ear. He was throbbing now, his whole body alive with the need for her as he stroked her folds, biting her ear. The more he played with her body the more wet she became. Her head was still turned away from him as his mouth traveled from her ear across to her cheek, then down to her chin. Frustrated, he yanked his hand out of her welcoming drenched warmth to clutch at her chin as he moved his face away, turning her head to look at him. She still averted her eyes, biting her lip.

"Tell me _why_ , Sansa." His eyes flared but she still couldn't meet his stare. It angered him. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I'm - I'm not. I just -"

"You _have_. Don't lie to me. I know you." His fingers tightened around her jaw, his other hand gripping her arm again. " _Look at me_. I deserve an answer."

"Mom and Dad will be home soon. Please let me go." Her tone was meek, shaky.

He did as she demanded, noticing the marks on her arm. No doubt she would be bruised there and he knew he should feel contrite but he didn't. He stood like cement as she turned away from him, shielding her breasts with her arms. 

Her lovely back was exposed to him, so pale and flawless, in perfect symmetry to her tall, slim body. She looked so vulnerable and his conscience pricked at him, suddenly making him ashamed of what he was doing. She was his sweet little Sansa, a loving and beautiful girl who believed in happily ever after and had dreams for her future. She loved him, he knew that, and she trusted him, and here he was, coming on to her like a sick lecherous bastard. He tried to regulate his breathing as she scrambled to pick up her bra with shaking hands, slinking it back on and hooking it into place. She moved back to the dryer when her phone went off, vibrating on the washer lid.

Sansa reached her arm out but Robb was there first, swiping up her phone. It wasn't locked and he looked at the caller, his anger creeping back in when he saw the name.

 _Harry_.

Sansa snatched it out of his hand and to his shock she answered it.

"Hello?" She cleared her throat, her back once again turned to him. "Hi _Harry_ , yeah, um... no, I was just doing laundry. I -"

She didn't get anything else out before he snatched her phone out of her hand, throwing it to the floor. Sansa started to protest but he gave her no time before he had her pushed up against the dryer, bent over. He could hear the slap of her palms against the dryer lid. How could she do this to him? She ignored him, disregarded all his attempts to talk to her, text her, be alone with her. Yet here she was answering the call of her ex-boyfriend right in front of him. If he was even an ex. Maybe she lied to him about that -

Her head turned before resting on the dryer, her nose touching her thumb pressing on the cool stainless steel in a perverse sort of submission. He didn't miss how her eyes traveled to her phone and he realized he didn't disconnect. He didn't bother to see if Harry disconnected; he thought he could hear the little shit talking but all he knew was the roaring of hurt and lust in his ears as he pulled down her yoga pants and panties in one swift motion, wasting no time unzipping and spreading her legs apart to push his cock deep inside of her. A muffled sound died behind her closed mouth but Robb groaned as he felt her tight wetness engulf him.

He felt her push back into him and he was buried to the hilt as he gripped her waist, thrusting as hard as he could. For a moment he stopped, withdrawing until only the tip of his cock was in, and he couldn't resist his hand from coming down on her ass, making her jerk and creating an unmistakable sound. Her breathing was heavy and there was a faint squeaking of her palms rubbing against the smooth steel matched with the rumbling of the dryer's movement. He smacked her cheek again, enjoying the redness on her white skin, and then again... until he couldn't take any more of not being fully sheathed inside of her. Robb sank back in, leaning over to touch his chest on her back, only to become annoyed at her bra. Stopping, he reached down and tore the delicate band apart - breaking the hooks in the process - to dig his fingers into her tender flesh there before gripping her shoulders. His mouth soon followed, delivering nips and sucking her skin in between her teeth until he reached creamy, delicate shoulders, resuming his fucking of her. He moved up to whisper in her ear.

"Quiet, my sweet little Sansa. He might hear you." His thrust was hard and she gasped."But I'd love for him to hear you cum as your brother fucks you over the dryer."

Her eyes shut at his words and she bit her lip so hard he saw blood, but it did nothing to slake his lust as he buried his face into her neck, biting and licking and sucking, not caring if he left a mark, only caring how she couldn't hold back a small cry when he sank his teeth into her shoulder. For a moment he planted a kiss on her ear, daring another whisper as he felt her shiver.

"It's wrong. But I cannot stop." He licked her earlobe before biting it."You belong to me and only me," he growled before pushing in her more roughly, satisfied to see her struggling to repress a moan.

Her ass was high against him as he slapped into her, an arm holding hers down in place while his other managed to squirm his hand down between her legs to find her sodden clit, rubbing it frantically. Her eyes might refuse to take him in but her body was more than eager. It was a victory and an affirmation when she bucked back into him, struggling to spread her legs for him to gain easier access. She wanted to cum and it didn't take long for her to do so. The feeling of satisfaction died when he felt her pulsating around his cock but no sound escaped her lips. 

Frustrated, cheated, he slammed up inside of her at a frantic pace and came in a wave of obscene pleasure. He moaned out as loud as he dared, hoping to hell Harry Hardying heard it anyway.

Wanting to collapse over her and kiss the bite marks he made to soothe her, he started to lean in when she pushed back so violently he stumbled away from her, nearly tripping. She was off the dryer in a heartbeat. Tugging up her panties and pants, she stumbled past him to the laundry basket where she madly pawed into it, grabbing a random shirt and tossing it on before swiping up her phone.

He saw her push the end button and fear crossed her flushed face.

His orgasm done and his cock softening, Robb felt contrite and even more so when he noticed her hands shaking. He reached out for her but she bypassed him, still refusing to meet his gaze as she dashed for the door.

This time, he let her go.

 

******************

 

 _He couldn't sleep_.

Dinner with the family had been a nightmare. It took all he had to sit at the table with Sansa across from him. She still refused to look at him, refused to speak to him directly and was so quiet Mom asked her twice if she was feeling all right. Robb had noticed she styled her hair to cascade down the front of her while a pink ribbons served as a choker. Mom thought it complimented her pink outfit nicely and Robb shifted in his seat, knowing full well why she chose such an unfashionable fashion statement.

His meal choked down, he excused himself for a night run, hoping the jog would clear his mind but all it did was provide time to think about Sansa. Was she back with Harry again? What would happen now, if Harry heard anything over the phone? Why wouldn't she talk to him? New Years to him had been a breakthrough, an awakening to who they were and what they really meant to each other. He knew when she laid her head on his chest that he wanted her in his bed for more than just forbidden sex. And he heard the tone of her voice when she admitted she wanted him... it wasn't the coercion, the withholding of orgasms or the threat to fuck her until she couldn't walk. He knew it by her tone that she meant it, she was speaking from the heart.

Has he lost her now that he had truly found her? It was a stupid thought. She was his sister still, no matter what had been happening between them over the past several years. Yet she didn't feel like a sister. Not anymore -

Robb sighed, flinging an arm over his eyes. He would have little chance to see her alone again for a long time and all he could do was fuck her when he had one good chance to talk to her. Was he such an animal? She had wanted it. She was wet as fuck and she pushed into him. She could have said no. No, the magic word. No, the word and the reason he would stop. She didn't say it. _Would she ever _?__

__Sleep wasn't coming. He wondered if it would come easy ever again._ _

He was startled to hear his door creak open and he moved his arm to see. It was who he least expected to be creeping into his room at one in the morning: _Sansa_. 

"Sansa -" He whispered it as she quietly shut the door, cautiously tiptoeing to the bed. She perched herself on the edge by his feet, dressed decorously in long sleeved pj's, her hair done up in a bun. 

"Shh." A placid hand rested gently on his knee. "Don't wake our family." 

For a moment they let a silence fall around them. He kept still, laying frozen on the bed, worried if he made a move it would break the spell. She seemed to be deep in thought, maybe searching for something to say. It wasn't the easy silence that they used to have between them in the past, and for that Robb was truly sorry. He wanted to ask if he had hurt her earlier but before he could, she fumbled with his comforter and sheet. He didn't know really what she was about and could only make out so much in the darkness until he felt her shimmy up in between his legs. Her cool hands immediately tugged down his boxer briefs. 

Instantly his heart quickened and his blood boiled, shooting straight to his cock as she exposed it under the blankets. Only seconds late her felt the warmth of her mouth closing around him, hesitantly sucking his cock to a semi and then a full-on erection within moments. It was bliss, pure unadulterated bliss, and even though her blowjob was uneven and unsure, it felt like heaven to Robb. He wanted to see her but could only watch the movement of the blankets and wondered if he should throw them back. _Could she even breathe like that_ ? He was afraid she would stop if he moved so he let her do as she wanted, but he couldn't resist reaching down under the covers to touch her head as she worked his swollen one. Maybe his hand pressed down too insistently, causing a gagging noise. It only turned him on more but he moved his hands to clutch at her hair instead, pulling her in but not forcing her down. 

"Sansa." It was his turn to bite his lip to prevent anything from escaping and he bucked up into her with as much restraint he could muster, which wasn't much at all. Her mouth was hot and wet and her hands clasped the base of his cock, warm and firm. "Sansa, _Sansa_ -" He couldn't prevent from moaning out her name. 

If this was her apology, then he was ready to accept it. It was a full apology if it was one, as she swallowed everything he gave when he came in her mouth, too soon for his liking. His mouth opened with a soundless moan as the sensation swept over him and her mouth puckered off of him too soon. He expected her to crawl up the rest of his body so her could embrace her, but instead she pulled his boxers back up over him and scooted back, popping out of the covers and smoothing them down to their previous place. 

She said not a word to him and before he could speak, she left him there as quietly as she came in. He wondered what in the hell just happened besides getting the oddly sweetest blowjob he'd ever experienced, no matter how short of a time he had lasted. 

His heart and mind were racing but his body relaxed and a lull came over him as he smiled a satisfied grin. Perhaps now he could rest. There was hope for them yet... she had come in of her own free will. For the first time she did not need to feel coerced to do something sexual with him...and even though she was still submissive, she took the initiative to start. 

His phone buzzed and lit up. 

Robb grabbed his cell off of his nightstand, tapping his code to unlock. His heart started thumping faster as he read his message. _Sansa_. 

" _I'll always be your Sweet Little Sansa_."

He stared for a moment, not knowing what to text. All of his dirty talk, all of his swagger and confidence and taunts disappeared. Shakily, he texted. 

" _Forever_."

And he meant it. He might be damned to eternal hellfire for it, but he meant she was his forever.

She was the last thing on his mind as he ebbed to sleep; and even as he became rock hard at the thought of her trapped in his arms, his body became molten fluid.

__*******************_ _

****(Present Day)**** 

Robb blinked awake, his memory and dream still vivid, lying on his side. His eyes blurred as he stared at the untouched rosary beads and book of devotionals on his nightstand. His body felt cool for the first time in four days from recovery of the flu and he shivered, realizing the only thing on him was a thin bed sheet, and that was bunched up around his ankles. His room was cloaked in darkness and he made a small movement to scoot closer to his nightstand, reaching for his phone and realizing it was not in its rightful place next to his Rosary hanger. In its spot was a small glass of ice water. He moved onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, his eyelids heavy, drooping. All he could see in the depths above him was her face from his dreams, haunting him.

"Sansa." His whisper seemed to sigh her name."Sansa -" 

His hands grappled for the bed sheet beneath him as his head turned to the side, desperately trying to ignore yet another hard-on resulting from his restless dreams. His attempt to convince himself he could still be dreaming was futile even though he could feel her body and her mouth on him as if it were only yesterday and he squirmed uncomfortably. He had nothing to do for the past several days but to stream in and out of reality, surrendering to dreams of lust and longing, only to awake to despair, and damned to do it again.

He could hear movement and peered across the room to his entrance and she was there, framed in the darkness. He could see the outline of her slowly swaying into the room and he willed himself to sit up but his body failed to comply.

"You called, brother?" Her voice floated over seductively. He must have imagined it, the low throaty tone, full of sensuality. "Do you need something? I heard you calling out to me from my room." 

Robb struggled for words, meaning to say no, he didn't want her. He wanted her to leave him be, leave him alone with his anguished desire and guilt. It wasn't her fault; no, he kissed her in the basement, her lips something he hadn't touched in nearly a decade but once he felt them, he wanted more. He had the will to turn away from her, to deny her; hadn't he refused the temptation, the urge to be what he had been all those years ago? And was was his reward? The renewal of craving her, wanting her. The drug was a mask, a cover, an excuse to taste her, hear her cum by his own ministrations. Had he not received that call, would he have fucked her? His guilt, his shame, it was nothing compared to his desire. No, a man of God did not give in to lust. Or did he? How many priests have been drummed out of the priesthood due to giving in to their carnal sins? How many left to marry and have children? _Sansa_. She hadn't wanted him, she ruined his life but he had found a new one, hadn't he? He knew he was loved. He knew he was helping people this way but was he helping himself? Sansa was back in his life and he had more questions than answers. Including one he formed in his head when his eyes adjusted enough to make out her figure. The lamp from her bedroom across the way lent a sliver of light to bring his room to semi-darkness. 

_Why was she naked_ ? 

It was his mind, his brain playing tricks on him. An image drawn from dreams of the past, from seeing her topless and seeing her riding Margaery, from spreading her legs to feast on her flesh, he was awakening to reality, his fantasy still fresh in his psyche. 

"Sansa." He croaked her name out while feebly reaching down to grab at his sheet, trying to untangle it from his legs as she slithered towards him. 

“Robb." The sound was silky smooth, as smooth and lithe as her movements as she approached the bed, her cool hand pulling at the sheet. Pulling it away from him, not towards. 

Panic filled him and embarrassment soon followed as his legs were pushed apart enough for her to creep onto the bed between them. There was no way to hide his erection and for a moment his elbows pushed down into the mattress, meaning to propel him up in protest, but the action died when he felt her silky tresses tickling his thighs below his boxers as she crouched down, down, hands on his waistband. Her breath permeated his modest shield of thin fabric and he swore his cock hardened even more. 

“You were dreaming about fucking me, weren't you?" Her lips were so close to his cock he could feel the warmth of her breath. "I could never forget how you sound moaning my name." 

"Please." Did he mean to beg her to stop or to go on? "You're -" 

“I'm your sweet little Sansa, aren't I Robb? Forever? Forever meant _nothing_ to you, but it meant _everything_ to me." 

“No." He could feel her sliding the boxers down, his cock exposed to the cool air and her hot, wicked breath. His eyes screwed shut, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, his fingers clawing into the fitted bed sheet on the mattress, clutching. No, it didn't mean everything to her. She was the one who threw it all away - 

“No, I'm not your sweet little Sansa, or no you don't want me to suck your cock?" A small breathy laugh followed. "No from you mean yes, doesn't it? I'm not quite sure, but let's find out." 

Weakened, helpless, and wanting, he fought a gasp as her lips encased only the tip, her tongue flicking the slit where it was already leaking, while her hands tugged his boxers down a little further to his mid-thighs. The image of her flashed behind closed eyelids as he felt her lips move only so her tongue could start at the base and lick upwards; long, wet, sinful, before closing in on him again, this time her hands tilting him toward her beautiful mouth. He almost came at the sensation of her expertly blowing him and he probably would have, had he not been exhausted from fighting his sickness and the instantly jealous thought of her already doing this in the not too distant past with Podrick - 

His eyes popped open when she puckered off of him and even in the dark he could see her Cheshire grin. She may be the devil but oh, what a desirable one, and he knew he should struggle, push her away, but the thought melted and dissolved when she straddled him. Her hand reached down to guide his cock to her entrance, rubbing his head over her clit. He could feel the jolt course through his entire body and the sweat started leaking from all of his pores. She was staring at him boldly; he swore he could see the fire in her eyes even in the dim. She hovered, teasing, rubbing his cock over her folds too lightly for any meaningful friction. He heard a whimper and realized it was his own. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Robb?" Her tone seemed amused. "Do you, my good little priest brother?" 

He should cringe at that but his breath grew heavy as she placed his cock at her entrance. 

Instinctively he tried to buck up but she held him fast. This wasn't Sansa. Not _his_ Sansa. This was a temptress, a well-versed seductress. _His_ Sansa was gone, left behind when she ripped his world apart. Yet this shell of his sister he still loved. Still wanted. God and the Devil had no power in this moment. He didn't have the power. _Only she did_. 

“Say it." He bore down on him enough so he could feel the pressure against her opening."I want you to _say_ it, Robb. Damn your pretty little soul to hell by admitting it." 

“Yes." It came out a broken whisper, nearly a defeated cry. He never stopped wanting her. Not even when he had hated her - 

“And _who_ am I?" Smug, knowing, her nails dug into the sensitive skin of his shaft and the pain and pleasure collided as he gasped. She once again moved to stroke his head against her clit and his fingers dug deeper into the mattress, his neck straining. He should resist - 

“Sansa, _my sister_. My sweet little Sansa -" his voice hitched as she sank down into him, drawing him into her wet, soft depths and he pressed his head down into his pillow, his neck and chest arching. He heard her own little cry followed by a long, sinister sigh, her hand slamming down onto his chest. Terrified at how little he resisted in breaking his vows, he closed his eyes again as she began to methodically ride him, the slick sounds of her arousal and little whimpers reaching his hungry ears. His fists clenched to prevent him from reaching for her as she fucked him slowly, sensually. 

Ten years. So long. A decade since he had been inside her and it felt just as damned good as he remembered; the forbidden ecstasy, the internal struggle, the delicious sin; what vocation stood a chance against this? He was but a man, a weak one, driven by a taboo love for his sister, and in this moment ten years of doubt and pain slipped away, leaving only the feel of him inside her. The dark exposed the side of him that never stopped caring, never stopped wanting; in the dark he could give in to what he wanted. 

"Oh, _Robb_." Her moaning his name cut of all reason, all sanity, as she started riding him faster, harder, relentlessly."Make me cum. You want me to cum for you, don't you - _ah_ -!" 

Somehow, he reared up and his hand found her clit while she arched back and he madly stroked, pressing into the softness, her secretions drenching the tips of his fingers. Her head was thrown back and he felt her tightening around his cock and fought the urge to spill as she cried out and pulsed, her nails clawing at his chest. Her feminine wail of pleasure coursed through his entire being and maybe both of his hands moved to reach out for her but she suddenly grasped both of his wrists, slamming them down into the mattress. His head fell back into the pillow and he tried to decipher her expression as she leaned into him, her breasts touching his chest, her hair spilling around his face like a silk curtain. Her riding of him didn't stop, she was relentless, demanding. 

“You want to cum, don't you, brother? You want to cum inside your sweet little Sansa -" 

“Yes." He finally emitted a growl, straining against her hold, thrusting in time to her rhythm. "God - _yes_ -" 

There was nothing else, nothing but him and Sansa as his release rushed over him in a dizzying euphoria and an undiluted groan; for a moment he lost all sense of space and time and sin as he filled her up - and then he heard a soft laugh, victorious; like nothing he ever had heard from her before and he stilled, panting. A chill crept over him as she leaned her face in further, her lips nearly touching his. 

“I knew you couldn't resist me," she gloated. She started to touch his lips with hers but he turned his head away, guilt and confusion and horror taking over. 

Sansa released his wrists suddenly as if they burned her palms and sat back on her haunches, tossing her long hair over her shoulders. Within seconds she disengaged herself from him and he could feel tiny droplets of his cum leaking from her onto his thigh. Before he knew it she leaned over him, grabbing a fistful of his curls. It stung, but he took it. 

“Who's the little whore _now_ , brother?" 

She shoved his head down and was off the bed in a flash, gone in the blink of an eye, leaving him frozen in the dark, trying to process what just happened. He buried his face into his pillow, his boxers still down around his thighs as their mingled secretions dried on his softened cock. His eyes burned as he wet the pillow with his tears, his lust instantly fading into regret, his blurred vision resting on his Rosaries and Book Of Devotions before he closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely and NSFW GIF moodboard by sansafeels:
> 
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> <https://gayforsansastark.tumblr.com/post/178375852077/then-love-is-sin-and-let-me-sinful-be-chapter>  
> 


	17. Holy Trinity Of Revenge Plan Redemption

She didn't know what emotion to release first as she glided naked into bed. They all seemed to be bubbling to the surface, one trying to win out against the others, but there was no clear victor as she sank into the mattress on her back, lying still on top of the covers.

Her heart hammered wildly but her breath was slow, raspy as she listened for movement outside her wide-open door. Maybe she hoped he would come rushing in to beg forgiveness, to break down and throw himself at her feet... or maybe storm in for another round. The longer she lay there in anticipation of something the more her fantasies were dashed while the seed from her brother oozed out of her onto the comforter. It was a lot, not surprising; he hadn't busted a nut inside a woman in a decade, if he had been true to his vows up to this point. Involuntarily she clenched, raising her pelvis up a little. She smiled for a moment, then frowned.

Her victory should have been a sweet one but it was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She felt as if she cheated. Well, a woman in desperate times called for desperate measures, and using Robb's illness to defeat him was a pure methodical move but happening to be around when he was talking in his sleep was the clincher. Oh, she played the perfect little concerned sister, all loving and nursing him through his damned flu, despite his flurry of weak protests in the beginning. She took control, relishing the duty of telling everyone he was under quarantine and could receive no guests or perform any duties, and took a special sadistic pleasure in accepting Myrcella's homemade chicken noodle soup with a sweet smile before dumping it all down the toilet and making her own. Oh, and Robb protesting that she would fall ill was so thoughtful, really, but she reassured him she had her flu shot and brooked no refusals. She hated to admit she took an obscene pleasure in being the only one he had to rely on and his weakened state gave her plenty of time for her to bond. He had rallied briefly, enough to time to take a nice warm shower and roam aimlessly around the house, looking wan and pale, and he had lost some weight. He followed her with bleary eyes and thin smiles, and she thought for sure she had made the progress she wanted, but it wasn't enough. Next Monday was the start of her job, and then soon after that her apartment would be ready, leaving less time for her hidden seduction. She wanted more, needed more to happen and it was a God-given opportunity presenting itself when he relapsed enough to warrant a long sleep in bed, and she just happened to be upstairs when she heard him moaning her name.

Sansa knew it was not the normal calling for her; she had heard his voice enough moaning her name to know what was happening. She could never forget that sexy baritone sound of lust and desire, no matter how many years or how many lovers had passed since then. It was decided and she was ever the opportunist. Weak, aroused, dreaming of her, it was easy to slip into his room naked and seduce him. She wanted to stay perfunctory, cold, but the taste of him in her mouth, the feel of his cock buried inside of her, the touch of his fingers against her clit - 

Shuddering, she slipped a hand down, fingers sliding over her opening, still slick with his - and her own - cum. Oh, she had climaxed so hard on his cock, his fingers, and he gave her just as good as he got when he flooded her. She meant to taunt him more, tease him about how surprised she was he lasted as long as he did, but her jibes melted away and for a moment - just a moment - she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers, to experience his arms wrapping around her to hold her tightly to him. But he turned away from her. He turned away - 

Her eyes shut, refusing to see his rejection and disgust in her mind, focusing on another thought. He wanted it all well enough with his cock in her mouth and in her cunt. She didn't force him to get her off, didn't force him to ejaculate into her waiting womb. God, he had filled her. She had forgotten how well he stuffed her full and even now she ached a little, a pleasurable ache she swore she felt all the way into her cervix and beyond.

Bolstered, she reminded herself that finally the plans were set in motion from the point of consummation and beyond; he had no clue what she was truly planning. This was just the beginning for her dear brother's demise, the total destruction of his perfect little priest life. This little fuck was only the start.

Smiling, confident again, her fingers worked in a circular motion, rubbing slow, recalling the look of pure agony and ecstasy on her brother's face, experiencing again sinking down on him as her fingers shoved inside of her. She hoped against hope he would come stumbling in at this moment as she spread her legs a little further apart, her hand working madly. Little gasps from her unmistakably filled the room as she recalled his growl, his affirmation before he came inside of her; he was throbbing, hot, potent, a hint of who he once was -

"Ah. Ah!" Her fingers shoved as deep as they could go as she shuddered her release, her cry weak in comparison to earlier, her orgasm not as intense or as satisfying. She curled her fingers before withdrawing them, bringing the sticky goodness to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. Salty and sweet, intermixed it was a divine combination; a perfect blend of her and Robb and the best liquid she had ever tasted. She couldn't resist another swipe, this time giggling softly as she bit the tips of her fingers. Victory tasted sweet, even as something hollow and empty threatened to escape. She pushed it down, down down. It was not the time to focus on anything but her triumph. 

She wondered if sleep would elude her tonight. Her nerves were singing even as she lay satiated after two orgasms. Sansa remembered a time where Robb gave her more than two.

Sighing, she moved over onto her side, aware of the wetness still between her thighs. She would need a shower, but not now. Maybe in the morning, before she checked in on Robb. What would she say to him? It would be a delicate conversation and she needed to play her cards right. Unfortunately her calling him her whore wasn't going to help her situation and she bit her lip, frowning, before skimming her tongue over her lips, still tasting remnants of them both. Whatever happens, she knew no more of a true thing than this. At least with this they could be honest, be themselves. Any pretense either of them had disintegrated with their climaxes. It was the only truth she really knew.

Smiling, she sighed into her pillow, relaxing into some much-needed rest.

 

*******************

 

The morning brought disappointment when Sansa peeked in Robb's room to discover he wasn't there. His bed was neatly made but his Rosaries were still on his nightstand, so she breathed a sigh of relief before jumping in the shower, discreetly leaving the door cracked just in case a curious or lust-filled brother might want to investigate. She was miffed when that wasn't the case and she quickly dried, walking naked into her room to dress. 

Unfortunately she had awakened to Margaery calling. She should have known better than to answer but she did anyway. Despite Marg lusting for Robb she had become something of a friend with benefits even as Sansa could barely hide her contempt for her. Besides, she was fun in a sea of goody-two-shoes and was always willing to get her off. This morning she wanted to take her shopping for her new apartment, and since Margaery was buying, Sansa agreed. The direct insistence surprised her; usually Marg begged and wheedled to get her way and that was the way Sansa liked it. But still glowing from the night before, she readily agreed, as long as it wouldn't take call day, never once thinking to ask why the hell she was up so early. Margaery never got out of bed before noon.

Shrugging on her coat and grabbing her purse and keys, Sansa bounded down the steps, smiling at her internal soreness. Her smile faded when Robb was not to be found in the living room or the kitchen; coffee wasn't even brewing on the counter.

"Robb?" She opened the basement door. Nothing. "Robb!" Slamming the door she stomped to the back door... no Robb out back, either. She gritted her teeth.

He was avoiding her. He didn't come to her last night like she had hoped, and he didn't wait around for her to wake up, either. No doubt he was next door at that damned church, probably going over what was done in his absence with Deacon Sam and that little bitch Myrcella. Well, he could have his morning. He couldn't avoid her forever and this would give her some more time to figure out how to approach him. She knew he wouldn't be putting in a full day, not when he wasn't fully recovered, and she was confident Myrcella would shoo him back home to rest. Maybe it would be a good thing for him to return and find her and her car gone. Give him a false sense of hope that she was guilt-stricken and was staying away from him. Then, when he had all of his preconceived notions in his head -

Squaring her shoulders and humming a little tune, she sauntered out the door.

 

*******************

 

A little over three hours later, Sansa intended to turn to pull into the short driveway but was greet by an unfamiliar car already in the spot. Robb's car was in the garage; that, with an SUV in the driveway, at least meant that Robb was back home. The shopping with Margaery had been exhausting and bothersome but her occasional fuck buddy spent a lavish amount on furnishings for the new apartment. Marg tried to coax her into staying at her place for awhile but Sansa was in no mood. All she wanted was to get back to Robb and not even Margaery's sexy body or promises of fun in between the sheets had any sway on her. She told her to go find her boy toy Tommen and left, making the excuse that she needed to check on Robb, leaving Marg to purr that she'd be back soon enough.

Parking by the curb, she scurried out of the car and to the door. November had brought some cold, bitter weather and her teeth chattered despite her warm coat. Gloved hands fumbled with her key chain as she approached the door but she stepped back as Robb greeted her; opening the door up only enough for his body to wedge between it and the frame. He was dressed in his priest shirt and collar and dress pants. So, he had been back to work after all -

"Robb! I -"

"Sansa." He looked at her square in the eye, his dark circles prominent under the lifeless look her gave her. "May I have my house key, please?"

"Yes, of course, just let me come inside first. It's cold out here, you are just recovering from being sick and shouldn't be standing -"

"I will always be sick, won't I, Sansa? Key, please."

His voice was so deadly, so monotone, that she just gave him the whole key chain and he worked the house key off. Instead of handing her back her keys, Robb opened the door wider so two men could step outside, carrying her luggage and a couple of boxes.

"Robb?" Her mouth went dry and her heart sank to her stomach. "Robb, what is going on?"

Robb handed the keys to the second man to leave and instantly she recognized him. Theon Greyjoy, owner of Theon's Truck Travels.The man who handled her delivery of the pink boxes. Theon and his assistant avoided her shocked gaze as they made their way to her car and all she could do was watch as they popped her trunk, placing her luggage and belongings inside.

"I'm sorry, Sansa, you cannot live with me any longer. I've packed all your items up carefully and I promise you everything is there." He produced an envelope in his hand. "There is enough money here for you to stay at the hotel until your apartment is available."

She took it, her hands trembling, turning her head to watch as Theon approached her to hand her the keys, give a small salute to Robb, and hoof it to his SUV with his hired help. They backed out carefully and she could read his logo plastered on the side of the door with the phone number.

"Robb -" Her voice wavered and she bit her lip."Wait, I -"

"There is nothing more to be said, Sansa. I'm sorry. Maybe I will see you in church."

Something snapped inside of her then. Here he stood before her, kicking her out, getting rid of her. Avoiding what was between them, ignoring her once again. Abandoning her. At least this time he was doing it to her face, but she took it as more of an insult than what he had done to her back then. How dare he, how could he stand here, wearing his priest garb and acting so sanctimonious like he didn't just fuck his sister and make her orgasm last night. The hypocrite!

Furious, she slammed the envelope into his chest and he grabbed it, stumbling back a little.

"Keep your fucking money, I don't need it. I don't need anything from you. Not your money, not your cock, not your love.You can just rot in hell."

"Sansa -"

She turned, ignoring any more weak words from him, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes as she stormed off with as much dignity as her broken pride and crushed dreams of revenge allowed, slamming the door and buckling her seat belt. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see he was still in the doorway - maybe this time he'd catch pneumonia. Let his precious little Myrcella take care of him then and stay by him 24/7 if she could even handle it. Trying to maintain composure she drove away, letting the tears fall.

What to do now? Where would she go? All of her plans has just gone up in smoke. She had been so close to obtaining what she wanted... and this? He rejected her once again. Damn him. Damn him to hell. He deserved to pay. Father Robb Stark did not deserve to live his perfect life. There was a tiny chance of ruining that but only time would tell and she knew the odds were against it. Aside from that one small sliver of hope, what was there?  
By the time she drove two blocks, she gathered her thoughts and made a turn to drive north. Fine. He didn't want to play by her rules, she would have to up the ante. She did not spend nearly a decade on how to exact her revenge without thinking some things through and becoming resourceful. Sometimes the alternate path was more punishing.

It didn't take her long before she pulled into Margaery's driveway. 

Sansa hurriedly wiped her tears away before rummaging around in her glove compartment, finding what she was looking for. She held up a cross key chain that sparkled in the cold sunlight streaming through her windshield, reflecting off of the metal. Three keys. One to Robb's house, one to the church main entrance, the other to the church office. The holy trinity of her revenge plan redemption. Robb being bedridden was the perfect opportunity to have some duplicates made and she took advantage of it without a second thought. A slow smile spread across her face.

Game still on.

Margaery greeted her enthusiastically, listening to how Sansa just couldn't take another minute living in a stuffy priest's home; it was worse than having to live with her parents. She didn't even have to ask for a place to stay; Maragery offered it instantly. In no time they were sharing a bottle of vodka and watching some stupid movie on Netflix. The alcohol soothed her nerves and it wasn't long before Margaery's hands were sliding under her shirt as she cooed about wanting to make her feel right at home. It was a balm to her hurt pride as she let Marg lead her to the sumptuous bedroom and undress her, bringing her to a climax with an eager mouth. 

Margaery purred into her ear how friends with benefits are the best before guiding Sansa's fingers to her already swollen, wet cunt. Already with an idea in mind, Sansa surprised her by pushing her down onto her back and lowering herself between her legs. For the first time, Sansa licked into Marg's cunt, bringing a moan of shock. It wasn't something she really wanted to do, but it was an act of persuasion as she whispered out her idea, her plan,demanding Margaery agree before she sucked her clit and fucked her with her tongue. She knew the sexy brunette would do what she wanted, so she made sure her orgasm was earth-shattering before delving in to do it again. 

There was more than one way to skin a cat and Robb was forcing her to take the more brutal, painful path. More painful for Robb, anyway. She was going to enjoy it. Thoroughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter : flashback and a huge reveal in the past....


	18. Broken Apart (Flashback)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is a flashback, so I did not use italics.

The day after Robb left for Jon's apartment near the University found Sansa in a state of complete and utter misery. Well, it was a Monday back to school which didn't help, but she woke up after a sleepless night, mostly instigated by the constant texting from Robb. She wondered if he was as tired and unhappy as she was when she dragged herself out of bed, bleary-eyed from the lack of sleep and sore from Robb's feral goodbye quickie. They both had reeked of desperation and denial, so totally dramatic for him only being less than an hour away, and there was no doubt he would be coming home on weekends, but it seemed to Sansa they had reached some sort of breakthrough after the night she slipped into his room to give him head, her way of apologizing for accepting Harry's call. She would take to the grave with her the fact that she answered on purpose. She had wanted to stir Robb in to a jealous frenzy and that's exactly what she did. Even now the bruises were fading from that little episode but new ones emerged from his demanding goodbye.

School was normally something she enjoyed. She had so many friends and her teachers adored her, and good grades came so easily. But as she dressed for the day she only felt unhappy and problematic as she chose a new handmade choker to go with her concealing long-sleeved sweater. Her misery only increased once she arrived at school only to realize she had left her phone at home. A panic erupted as she frantically searched her purse and Jeyne's car, but she calmed once she realized she set her phone to lock after five minutes of inactivity. So if her snoopy brothers discovered it before she did - they always made it home before her - they couldn't get into it anyway. Still, she felt naked without it. The rest of the day was a haze of boring lectures, and at lunch she grew annoyed with the chirping of her friends. Silly girls, going on about their crushes and who kissed who, and who got felt up over the weekend, and who fucked who. High school girls and sex with stupid high school boys. Boys, that's all they were, with no clue how to give a girl what she really needed or wanted. Before Robb opened her eyes to what she really desired, she would listen with a scandalous interest to the exploits of her friends. Now, it was just so... lame.

Then there was Harry, the most lame of all.

Unfortunately he was in three of her classes and sat near her in all of them. She tried to avoid meeting his eyes and made sure she was preoccupied with school work or talking to someone else. She was wondering what he had really heard over the phone when Robb fucked her up against the dryer but she didn't want to truly find out. She could see he was trying to get her attention but she smoothed her hair over her shoulder as a curtain and looked away, her stomach tightening. She hated to be mean to anyone, especially her boyfriend - well, ex-boyfriend - and deep down she knew he never did anything to her other than not be Robb. He was handsome and kissed nice but he wasn't who she wanted. She wanted her brother and no one else would come close.

Instead of concentrating on school she daydreamed most of the day to ease her depression. She imagined driving to the apartment, finding Robb alone, and him taking her into his bedroom to fuck her senseless through an entire night. Maybe, just maybe, they could fall asleep together, naked, only to wake up and do it all over again. No quickies, no worrying over being interrupted or caught. Just the two of them. Her brother. Her own brother. Someone she loved all of her life and someone she trusted with her body. He knew her secret desires and it only took him one time to coax them out of her. She knew then that there was no one else for her. Maybe it was the added thrill of the taboo, the forbidden fruit that made her cum so easily. Sansa Stark, a paragon of virtue and goodness, was fucking her own brother and enjoying every minute of it... but she enjoyed it only when it was happening. It was the afterwards, when they were apart and she was left to interact with her family or friends or ex-boyfriend when the guilt would start to nag at her. What they were doing was wrong. It really was. But then why when she was with him did it feel so...right?

Maybe she was just a stupid, sick girl, but Robb didn't make her feel sick. 

Her thoughts were still racing when Jeyne drove her home. One more year of school, just one more. Then she would be going to the University as well. Maybe she and Robb could get an apartment together. Nothing wrong with a brother and sister sharing living space, was there? Granted, they could have their own separate dwellings. Mom and Dad were wealthy enough for it. The only reason Robb agreed to live with Jon was for Jon's benefit. Still, she could tell her mother that she was scared to live alone near campus, and Robb would be the perfect protector.

Where there was a will there was a way. Wasn't her mother always telling her she could do anything she wanted?

She wanted _Robb_.

She ignored Jeyne except for a small goodbye as she floated into the house, buoyed by her dreams. It was quiet, oddly so; usually she was greeted with the boys and Arya playing loud video games in the family room. She called out to them and received nothing but silence, but shrugged it off. There was probably a message on her phone about it. Regret and irony filled her. If Robb was home they would have a golden opportunity. It was the topping on the sundae of a terrible day.

She needed to find her phone. Excitement swelled in her, knowing Robb must have sent her a million messages in between classes. Maybe he was even worried since she hasn't been able to reply all day. Or maybe he was jealous, thinking she was spending time at school with Harry. She smiled and giggled a little as she made her way to the kitchen, then upstairs to the main bathroom she shared with siblings. A jealous Robb was everything.

No phone.

The only other place was her bedroom and she hoped it was there. She didn't have it when Jeyne pulled into the school parking lot, so it had to be left on her nightstand. No doubt she so preoccupied with thoughts of Robb that she left it behind. 

Sansa opened her bedroom door and froze after dropping her school bag. 

Sitting on the edge of her bed was her mother.

"Mom?"

Catelyn looked up at her and the expression on her face was something she had never seen before. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, as if she had been crying but she didn't look sorrowful; she looked mad as her eyes slowly raised to look at her. She was dressed for work in her tailored blue suit to match her eyes, her hair pulled back in a severe bun, the severity making her look even more intimidating. Sansa's eyes darted to her hands where her mother was gripping her lost phone, the knuckles so white she could see them from the doorway.

Sansa took two paces forward but dread filled her even has her mind chanted... my phone is locked, my phone is locked, my phone is locked -

She opened her mouth to say something but her mother sprang up quick as lighting before rushing over to deliver a sharp slap to her face. Sansa cried out at the sting and stumbled back, her hand flying up to her smarting cheek.

"Mom -"

"You little slut!" Her voice was dark, dangerous, and Sansa's stomach sank as her mother grabbed a fistful of her hair while she shook her phone in her other hand in her face. "You sick little whore!"

Sansa cringed, whimpering, terror spreading but trying to maintain some semblance of control. Of course. Her mother paid for her phone, no doubt she was able to call the phone company to unlock it. Still, there might be a way - a way -

"I'm - I'm sorry, Mom! I - he's my boyfriend! I - I know I did things with Harry but he's -"

The phone met her cheek and sent her crumbling to the floor. The pain flashed and she cried, staring up at her mother who towered over her.

"Your brother! Your own brother!" It was a scream and Sansa cowered against the wall, hands scrambling for purchase on anything to force her up. "In my house! You fucked your brother!"

"I - I don't -"

"Don't lie to me, Sansa! I read the texts. I saw those pictures. Those pictures! Get up!"

Sansa was crying near to hysteria now as she tried to stand. Her mother helped her by grabbing a handful of hair and slammed her against the wall. Sansa screeched out in pain but didn't struggle, not even when the blows and slaps came down on her.

"You've disgraced this family. Letting your brother rut between your legs. And I've been so blind! So blind! How _long_ , Sansa? how long have you been fucking your brother!"

"Mommy, please!" Her throat was tight and it hurt to move her jaw. "Mommy -"

"How long!?!" The slaps were harder this time.

"Not long, I swear. Please! I swear! I -I didn't want to, I just -"

"He _made_ you, didn't he? He _forced_ you to do it!"

"Mommy, please, you're hurting me!" She was frightened, more scared than she had ever been in her life. Her loving mother was gone, gone, and in her place was a demon straight from hell. Hell, where she was going for what she was doing with Robb. Hell, that was what she was in right now and she didn't know how to stop it. She wanted her sweet mother back, wanted this stranger to stop hurting her. So she nodded slightly, wanting to throw up and die right there.

"You are coming with me. Now! Dr. Luwin is waiting and I swear to God if you defy me, I'll beat you within an inch of your life!"

Through her sobbing Sansa could only obey helplessly and allow her mother to drag her by her arm out to the garage and throw her into the car. The family doctor? Why?

Catelyn seemed to gain some control during the drive but Sansa cowered as far away from her mother as possible, crying softly. Her mind couldn't focus on a coherent thought and she tasted rust inside her cheek. _Robb. Oh, Robb_.

"Your Father is getting ready to run for Mayor." The voice was cold and sharp, worse than any slap. "We will not have any scandal. Do you hear me? I am making damn sure you are not pregnant with your brother's bastard. You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Especially your father. Do you hear me? Do you?"

She cried anew at the thought of Dad finding out. Or her younger siblings. The shame, the embarrassment, the disgust they would all feel for her. And Robb. Her yes was barely heard but it seemed to satisfy her mother.

The next hour was a nightmare of humiliation as she was examined by the doctor and made to pee in a cup and afterwards she was given a pill to make sure there was no chance of a pregnancy. She tried not to think as she was coldly prodded and looked over, with her mother photographing the bruises and love marks on her neck, her hips, the inside of her thighs. Her mind tried to leave the situation, tried to escape to a place where she could run to Robb's open arms, but she was left focusing on the pain in her jaw instead. Her heart hurt more than her face and she was also still terrified of what her punishment would be. What more could her mother do? She had beat her, forced her submit to an exam, called her a whore and threatened her. What more could she possibly do? What could she do that she wasn't already doing to herself? 

By the time they arrived home her crying had subsided. Thankfully no one else was home yet and Sansa dared not ask where everyone was. Mother told her to go directly to her room and she obediently did as she was ordered, a numbness creeping over her as she laid on the bed. She curled into a fetal position, reaching out for Mr. Happy, pulling him in close to hug tightly to her breast. She wanted to call Robb but Mom took her phone. Already she devised a plan to use Arya's phone when she came home. Robb hasn't heard from her all day... he must be so worried at this point, maybe thinking she had changed her mind about their redefined relationship.

All the crying made her sleepy and even though she didn't think she could ever sleep again, she nestled into her bear, falling asleep clutching Robb's gift in a death grip.

 

*******************

 

"Damn it."

Robb cursed barely under his breath, lounging on the couch in his and Jon's apartment, checking his phone for the millionth time and sending another text. Another phone call made went once again straight to voicemail.

Jon had left for his evening job which thankfully left Robb to his own devices. The day back at college had been boring and he was hopeful for a text from Sansa, but he had nothing from her since last night. He was almost ready to jump into the car and drive back home, but instead he decided to call Arya. She answered, of course - the girl was glued to her phone - and he casually played it off as just wanting to say hi to everyone. Bran and Rickon got on enthusiastically but not Sansa. When he asked Arya she said Sansa wasn't feeling well and had gone to bed early. At least he knew she was all right, but it bothered him she hadn't given a thought to let him know she was sick. She seemed just fine the afternoon before when he fucked her and then last night when they were sexting on the phone.  
Fuck it. He was going back home. He just needed an excuse... maybe he forgot something in his room. Or there wasn't any hot water and he needed a shower. Something. Anything. He just wanted to make sure Sansa wasn't changing her mind about him, about them, about what they were doing. Well, that he wanted to make damn sure Harry wasn't back in the picture now that he was gone. He recalled how Sansa was so quick to answer her phone when that little shit called...and that was when he was right there. How would she behave now? He realized his insecurities but he could hardly blame himself for having them. He was her brother, after all, and that was already a huge black mark on their relationship as it was.

He was deciding on his final excuse when he heard a sharp knock on the door. He debated on whether or not to answer it, considering he was leaving, but a glance through the peephole made him fling the door open.

"Mom?"

Puzzled, he let her in and she didn't even greet him with a kiss or a hug, stiffly walking past him as he shut the door. Something was wrong, he could sense it.

"It's good to see you, Mom." He leaned in to brush his lips against her cheek but she moved away into the living room area so he followed, running his fingers through his hair before slumping back on the couch. She made no move to sit in the chair beside him and looked at him with blank eyes.

"I am not here to stay, Robb." She pulled an envelope from her coat and handed it to him. "This is yours."

Puzzled, he took it. It was light.

"Mom, what -"

"It's a check. For fifty thousand dollars." She squared her shoulders. "And you will listen to me. I don't want to hear a word from you."

Robb swallowed, not understanding but at the same time a sensation of trepidation crept up his neck.

"You will be accepted to Seminary School and you will enter the priesthood. Father Jorah will be your mentor to guide you on the correct path to forgiveness and redemption, because God knows I have no forgiveness in me. I will pay for the school and this check is yours to do as you wish. In return you are not to come home. Not now, not ever."

"Mom. What -"

"I am not your mother. You are not my son. You are not part of this family, not anymore. You gave us all up when you decided to do what you did to Sansa."

His heart skipped a few beats and his mouth went dry. She knew. How could she know? Everything was fine yesterday, everything. She was warm and friendly and loving when they all said their goodbyes. Dad patted him on the back, reminding him he was less than an hour away. The priesthood? He has only toyed with the idea of becoming a priest, and that was when he was twelve. It was not something he wanted, especially now. He wanted to go into Criminology. He wanted Sansa.

"Mom, I can't -"

"Don't call me that!" Her hiss was full of venom. "You will do as I say. Stay away from the family, from Sansa. If you come near her, so help me I will have you arrested and charged with rape and incest. I've seen the bruises, Robb. I've seem them! Your own sister. Your sweet, innocent sister! You are a monster and you are not my son. Maybe God can sort you out now, but I cannot and will not have a predator in my home."

"I love Sansa. I do. I love her, Mom." There was no use in denying it, not when she knew. How? Sansa would not have said anything willingly. Their mother must have seen the marks he had left on her. "I love her more than as a sister -"

Before he could say more, she reached down and backhanded him across his face, the diamond of her wedding ring cutting into his cheek from the force. It took all he had not to react to her. She was still his mother. Even as anger bubbled beneath the surface.

"She told me what happened, how you forced yourself on her! You call that love? I brought you up to be better than that, I raised you to be a human being, not someone who would rape his little sister!"

He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and the anger turned into hurt, betrayal. Sansa had told Mom that he had raped her? No. It wasn't possible, was it?

"I didn't -" 

Instantly she gave the other side of his face the same treatment.

"Do not speak to me. I saw the bruises. I've read the texts. I wish to God I could erase it all from my mind, but I can't. Do you know she has internal abrasions and fissures? Maybe I should tell you how hard she cried, telling me the truth. Consider yourself lucky that I care enough about the family to keep this horrible sin a secret until my dying day. Your father will never know. It would kill him, Robb! Do as I say. Father Jorah will be in contact with you. From this moment on, I never want to see you again. Neither does Sansa. She is terrified of you and who could blame her for that? Just stay away from us."

Stunned, he could only watch as she turned on her heel to storm out of the door, slamming it behind her. Robb wasn't even quite sure what just happened, it didn't seem real. He picked up his phone and stared at it for a long time, maybe an eternity, clicking on Sansa's name, her picture smiling at him. His sweet little Sansa. His sweet, lying, save-her-own-skin Sansa. She had been cornered and confronted by their mother and she sold him out so she could remain blameless. Scot-free, guilt-free, sweet little innocent Sansa, who was brutalized by her wicked older brother. She didn't love him; not as a brother, not as a lover, not even as a friend. And maybe, maybe all along she let him fuck her because she felt she was trapped by him, that she had to submit to him because he was the older sibling and she had no choice. So the first chance she got, she ratted him out, to make sure he could never touch her again...

The phone went off, breaking into his thoughts as the screen changed, the incoming call flagged as Arya. He didn't want to talk but automatically he answered it with a cracked but soft hello.

"Robb." It wasn't Arya but Sansa. Her voice sounded so groggy, strained. He loved her voice, how it sounded when she breathed out little sighs of pleasure. Had it really been true? "Robb, are you there?"

He stared into space as he held the phone to his ear. 

"Robb, please, listen, I - I am so sorry, I - love y -"

His thumb disconnected her and silence filled the room until he threw his phone so hard it hit the wall, cracking, followed by his own strangled cry of betrayal and loss.


	19. Two Our Fathers and Five Hail Marys

The banging startled Robb out of a deep sleep and his heart raced as he jumped out of bed, not quite alert enough to do much beyond reacting on instinct, stumbling out into the hallway and down the stairs. The knocking was hard, pounding, urgent. For a fleeting moment Sansa flashed in his brain. Nearly two weeks since he had kicked her out and not a word or attempt, so maybe she finally came to her senses and was coming back to him. No, no, he didn't want her back. He really didn't. Not even as he slept far worse than when she was here; not even as his body craved her, no matter how much he repented on his knees -

Shaking his head through his scattered thoughts he flung the door open and was greeted not by fiery hair but by golden locks peeking out from a soft green wool cap to match her eyes. Eyes that widened to saucers as she stared at his exposed chest and then lower at his blue boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, before skittering back up to his face, her expression completely flustered.

"Um... Father Robb... um.. it's...um Confessional Saturday and -"

Ducking himself behind the door, he opened it wide for her to step inside, the chilly draft blowing gently around his bare legs. She seemed hesitant but walked in, gliding to the side and bowing her head, her eyes discreetly on the hardwood entry way as he slammed the door shut.

"Sorry." He mumbled it, alert enough now to feel a little uncomfortable. "I'll - I'll be right back -"

Back up the steps he sprinted, affording a backward glance down to her, relieved to see she was still averting her eyes as if the floor was a devastatingly interesting work of art. He dressed as quickly as he could, noting his outfit wasn't pressed and he wondered how he had forgotten to do it the night before. No matter; his robe and stole would cover it. Not that he would technically be seen anyway.

"I was - I was worried when you didn't answer the phone or text," her usually soft voice gained some strength to float up to him. "You're usually at the office by seven when there's Saturday Confession. I was taking care of some things for Sunday's service and noticed it was after eight."

Robb grabbed his phone off of his nightstand. It was dead and he frowned before stuffing it into his pocket and sauntering to the bathroom for a quick pee and a brushing of his teeth. Skimming back down the steps, he noted Myrcella holding his coat in her hands and offering a small smile.

"You didn't have to, but thank you." He took it from her and shrugged it on. "I'm just going next door, I could just -"

"Oh, no you are _not_ going without a coat! Do you want to get all sick again? You still haven't fully recovered. I've been worried about you, Robb. Um. _Father_ Robb. Sorry."

Her head bowed down again as she fidgeted with her coat buttons. Robb slowly slipped his keys in his pocket before approaching her, his hand softly reaching to cup her face underneath her chin to tilt her head upwards. She still did not look at him.

"Myrcella. I think it is fine for you to call me Robb, as long as we are not in church. There is _nothing_ wrong in it."

"Mother said it is improper and a sign of disrespect to not address you by the proper title at all times. She said it would blur the lines of our association."

Robb frowned a little. Not only was she refusing to meet his gaze, she was parroting the wishes of her mother. Cersei Lannister, a cold and demanding woman. In some ways Robb thought she reminded him of his own mother. Always looking out for her best interests, always concerned with how she was perceived, loving her daughter as a paragon of perfection and a reflection of herself. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of Catelyn.

"Myrcella, look at me." Maybe his voice was too low, but she raised her eyes. "I highly doubt God is going to strike you dead for calling me by my God-given name. And we are more than business associates. We are _friends_."

Her skin was soft and warm to his touch. Beautiful, flawless. The man inside of him appreciated the feel while the Priest admonished him. _Damn Sansa_. Damn her and damn him for blurring the dynamics of what a brother and sister should be to each other and now, what a Priest needed to be and wasn't. He could not even appreciate Myrcella's loveliness with a detached and clinical eye as he did previously; no, his admiration of her as a woman now suddenly stirred him as a man. With Myrcella it seemed his tame thoughts were more sinful than the reality of his cock being buried inside of Sansa.

"Well, maybe I can call you Robb in private." Her voice squeaked a little as a slender gloved hand reached up to lightly move his hand away but froze as she covered his fingers. "Just, you know, not in the office or during church functions, or anywhere you have to be Father Robb. People would talk. I like you being my friend, Robb. I was worried when you were sick and weren't allowed visitors."

"That's sweet of you, Myrcella." She was sweet. Good. "I just didn't want to make anyone else sick." He withdrew his hand reluctantly and smiled, hoping she couldn't see his impure thoughts.

"Were you able to at least eat the soup? I hoped it was all right. I'm not much for cooking and I kept on tasting it. It was my grandmother's recipe and she makes very nourishing soups."

"Yes, thank you, it was great. Practically the only thing I ate for days." He said it automatically but racked his brain. He knew Sansa had made him soup, she had bragged about how it was their family recipe in her head, and it was good, but she never mentioned Myrcella stopping by or giving her soup. Or, maybe she said something when he was drifting in and out of sleep. The days had been a blur besides the night where she had her sweet mouth on his cock and fucked him. Even at the memory he felt his dick twitch and he stepped away from Myrcella, thankful for his long coat. It was good he made her leave, for his sanity as well as hers. It happened but it wouldn't happen again, even as his body hungered. _Needed_.

Myrcella's face lit up, her happiness at his answer apparent and he returned the grin to mask a more intense feeling. Her smile only served to make her more beautiful, more of a beacon of light and goodness and for a moment he longed to pull her to him and kiss her, wondering if she would slap him or push him away in shock. Or would she enjoy it, then duck for cover under her virtuous indignation?

"Oh, you are welcome, Robb! It is good to see you back to your duties, especially after - after all the sadness. It's too bad Sansa moved out. I think having her staying with you really helped but I understand a sister wanting independence. She's settled into her new apartment, isn't she? I haven't heard from her and she didn't attend last Sunday's Mass."

Robb hadn't either but he lied. Lying, it was something he was doing a lot of lately.

"She's settled in and loves it. And she's started her new job, so I am sure she's just busy, that's all." He motioned for her and they walked out of the house, Robb locking the door behind them. It was a short walk next door.

"You're probably right. It's just that I think we've become friends and I kind of miss her." She smiled again, tucking her hands into her pockets as they entered the Church. "I know Margaery has spent a lot of time with her lately when she's not with my brother. Strange having my best friend hooking up with my brother, you know? She's like the sister I never had. I thought Tommen was like a brother to her, but I guess I was wrong."

"Are you upset?" Robb's insides tightened a little at her words. 

"No!" She shook her head. "As long as Tommen and Marg are happy, I guess that's what matters. I'm in no position to make moral calls on anyone, Robb. Only God can do that. And Priests."

"I only listen and forgive in the name of God." He unlocked the office door so Myrcella could not see his face. He glanced around her front office before making his way to his own.

"Father Robb."

He turned and raised his brows in a silent question, trying to rearrange his expression into a soft one. A priestly one. _A deceptive one_.

"Would you like to grab some lunch somewhere... after Confessionals? My treat. A celebration for you returning full force to work? You're going to need it after all the confessions. I have some errands to run but can make it back here around one."

She was probably right. The last thing he wanted to do right now is listen to people confessing what they thought were sins needing forgiveness while he committed incest with his sister and developed fleeting licentious thoughts about his Administrator. After so many confessions of taking the Lord's name in vain and being too prideful or envious, he would need not only a good meal but congenial company. Myrcella was always amiable and animated enough for the both of them and she always did lift his spirits.

"That sounds perfect, Myrcella."

She squealed and clapped her hands together. It was sweet balm to all of his open wounds and he genuinely smiled at her.

"Thank you! Good luck and go with God. This town has been lucky to have you as their Priest."

In reply he stepped in his office and softly closed the door, suddenly ashamed at Myrcella's unwavering faith in him when only minutes before he had wanted to kiss her.

He was the worst Priest ever. 

 

*******************

 

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned -"

Robb felt like banging his head on the confessional wall separating him and the parishioner but instead he murmured his automatic response and attempted to listen to the woman bearing her soul and sharing her sins while a hand clutched onto his rosary beads. She yelled at her husband, had sinful thoughts about the postal worker who dropped off her crochet boxes, she wished her boss at work would get fired.

It seemed there weren't as many members seeking confession and Robb found it a good thing today. The duration between people was longer than he had ever experienced and he took the time to stare down into his Bible, scarcely readable with the dim light streaming in from his side of the box. He appreciated the fairly new construction of dark mahogany complete with a cushioned bench and enough room in front of him to stretch his legs. Sitting for three hours or more was not ideal but typical he tolerated it with grace, accepting it as the obligation of a priest to listen to his flock unburden themselves.

Now, he gritted his teeth and prayed for patience. 

Not that he thought God would listen to him now. Or maybe it was that he wasn't listening to God.

Didn't he repent? Didn't he kick her out? Remove the temptation, remove the sin. He knew of priests who kept girlfriends, boyfriends, even hired escorts. Not to mention all the scandals over abuse. He wanted to rationalize it. Even though she had lied and betrayed him years ago, he still loved her and wanted her but she had no place with him now. It had taken years of conditioning, years of training and of guidance from those in the seminary to open him to a new life, a new persona, and acceptance. Something that was forced onto him had developed into a sense of belonging, even though the pieces never quite fit. They would never truly fit, not as long as he drew breath. Sansa, always Sansa. He loved her. He would always love her but because of her perfidy he closed that door. She came to him wanting forgiveness... could he truly forgive her? His family was denied to him. He had to see Bran, Rickon, and Arya on the sly, give excuses to his Father why he never came around for the family gatherings. The Starks were all about family and he was not a part of them, thanks to Sansa. Thanks to his mother. Still -

"Go in God's grace and glory be to God." He rattled it off, another happy follower ambling off to be a sinner once again within the hour. Another one, an older man by the voice, took the woman's place a few minutes later.

Robb shifted, his greeting and prompt on auto-pilot, making a sign of the cross. He needed to forget about Sansa but every day he waited for her to show up on his doorstep. Why? Did he want to hear her being contrite over their sexual encounter? Did he expect an apology? She never apologized for accusing him of rape. Never apologized for breaking his heart.

The man rambled off a series of mild offenses and then drifted into some story of his dog and going hunting in the mountains. Normally Robb would try to direct his wayward flock to more specific, confession-oriented talk but he let him go. He was probably an elderly man who was lonely and just needed to be heard and in this Robb was willing to break the rules. All he did was break the rules lately. Just as he allowed Myrcella to call him Robb, and he _enjoyed_ it -

A faint creak startled him as his confessional door opened. It had to be a mirage, a figment of his imagination as Sansa immediately slipped inside and closed the door carefully. Some bumping around ensued as Robb tried to scoot backward and then to the side to reach for the door. She wore no coat, only a thin pink sweater clinging to her curves and a short flirty skirt, her hair on top of her head in a high ponytail. Her hand flashed out to his to prevent him from opening the door to escape -

"Father? Are you all right?" Then man stopped with his involved story, obviously affected by the sounds. Robb sat back into place, his heart hammering and then sinking to his stomach as she knelt in front of him.

"Yes, please continue."

His calm voice gave belied the panic and desire to bolt, even as his cock stirred at the sight of her. In an attempt extract some pity from her he shook his head, even as his other head hardened. Her Cheshire grin revealed her perfect teeth surrounded by dark red-painted lips as her hands snaked up over his knees, deftly opening several buttons on his cassock and fumbling with the fly on his pants. It happened so quickly and the idiot thought crossed his mind... _I can be defrocked if anyone finds us out_... before he decided to try another escape, parishioner be damned.

Sansa was faster with determination as she yanked his rosary from his hand while her other fingers worked his cock out into the open. He could see her smirk at the semi he was already sporting but she glared up at him when his empty hand reached for the door knob. He nearly dropped his Bible from his right hand when she wrapped his beads around the base of his cock, tugging hard enough to draw a gasp as the cross pressed underneath, against his scrotum. He tried to move in his seat and she tightened the chain. It created some pain so he stilled and she loosened the grip, but only a little. 

He understood.

And he was damned for wanting it.

"Father?"

"Three Hail Marys. Go with God's love and peace. You have been absolved through God's love. Amen." He prattled it off, his mind a living hell as Sansa lowered her head to take him in her mouth. Within moments he was completely hard.

"Thank you, Father."

The noise made from the man exiting gave Robb an opportunity to adjust as much as Sansa's bondage would allow, his Bible thumping to the floor as his trembling hands clenched to his sides, ramming into the cushioned seat.

It felt even better than that night when she slipped into his room after he called out for her in a moment of sickened weakness. His senses now were heightened, partly from the danger of discovery, partly from the feeling. The slickness, the wetness and warmth of her mouth was intoxicating and what choice did he have to give in. His head tilted back, hitting the wall behind him as he closed his eyes. Her response was to tighten the beads while the nails on her other fingers dug into his thigh, and he was a quick learner.

 _She wanted him to look at her_.

He stared down at her, his breath coming in shorter breaths. Sansa puckered her lips off of him to swirl her tongue around the tip before enveloping around the head in a kiss. Underneath her lips he could feel her tongue fluttering, teasing, before she bore down on him again. All the while her eyes never left him. All the while she weakened his resolve. They were in God's house, in God's confessional, he was supposed to be doing God's work, not letting his lying, deceitful sister suck his dick. In spite of himself he gave in and she must have sensed it; the beads loosened enough to where he could feel himself tightening. Her suction was divine, as was her rhythm. He wasn't even sure who was taking advantage of whom as his hands stopped shaking and found their way onto her head before clutching at her ponytail. Silken, full strands he wrapped around his fist like his rosaries wrapped around his cock; she grazed teeth in warning but he didn't want to care if he hurt her because _she_ was hurting _him_. He pushed up into her mouth and she gagged but it only made her increase her efforts. His teeth clenched when he noticed her hand abandoned his thigh to slip down between her legs, her skirt rising just enough to give him a view of her fingers sliding down into her panties -

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession."

 _Christ_.

He tried to move away but again the beads tightened and he winced. It was as if Sansa didn't hear, her mouth and hand working faster. Or maybe she did hear, and it turned her on even more.

"God forgives - all sin, if confessed. Please - go ahead." He couldn't remember the exact thing he should say. And he didn't care.

"I have lusted and desired in my heart someone I shouldn't. I - I lied to a friend. I said something she was doing doesn't bother me and it does. And - and I had vanity in my heart. Pleasure at how another man might have looked at me. I dreamed it meant something more than what it was."

"God never fails." He heard the parishioner, but did not listen. "Find His face in where your faith and love of God leads you."

"And - and what if God has led me to - to feel such things?"

He tried to push Sansa from him, risking the pain. He was close, so close, but the voice on the other side of the wall panicked him, shamed him. He knew that voice, no matter how its owner was trying to disguise it. He would recognize it anywhere. His conscience pricked at him.

Sansa was having none of it and even through his horror his body accepted her ministrations, even as he pulled hard on her hair. It was futile and he gave in for good.

"Two Our Fathers and Five Hail Marys," his whispered as he exploded inside Sansa's ready mouth. The feeling washed over him in guilt and absolute pleasure, dizzying his head as his eyes closed briefly. 

"The Lord has freed you from sin." _I'm so sorry_ , he thought, opening his eyes to the sight and feel of Sansa swallowing, sucking off of his cock, letting go of her ponytail. She leaned back against the opposite wall, still on her knees, letting go of the rosary to finish herself off, licking her smeared lipstick as she shuddered with her own orgasm. "Glory to him for ever. Amen," he gasped, reaching down to untangle his beads.

"Amen." There was a soft rustling of the woman leaving.

Sansa stood, leaning over. He could smell his scent on her breath as she leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek, her hands running down the sides of his stole.

"Amen, _Brother_."

She was gone as quickly as she had arrived, leaving him struggling to unwrap his rosary and shove his softening cock back into his pants before buttoning up his cassock. He wanted to run after her but he heard another parishioner enter the confessional.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned -"

Robb smoothed down his cassock, placing his Bible back on his leg while his other hand held his beads. He rubbed them, but not for counting in prayer. No, his fingers rolled them for some semblance of clarity, of purpose, even as he found none. He needed something; an anchor, a life preserver, something to cling to before he was completely lost forever.

Within an hour he was fleeing church and making good on Myrcella's lunch invitation. Perhaps spending time with her would clear his head. She always managed to soothe him in his darker moments. He desperately needed the presence of an angel after the demon had sucked him dry.


	20. Friends With Benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair Warning - If you are strictly a Robcella fan, then this chapter will not be to your liking.  
> Everyone else, here you are. Yes, finally, an update.

Sansa flung open the door to her apartment and was immediately immersed from behind in an odd girl-hug from the person she wanted the least amount of contact with. It was awkward on her part but Myrcella didn't seem to mind or care, her hands on Sansa's shoulders. Beside her, Margaery rolled her eyes but allowed a little smirk before they entered Sansa's new dwellings.

"Wow, Sansa, this place is beautiful!" Myrcella glanced around while they all shed their coats and purses. "I'm so jealous!"

"It's just a one-bedroom apartment, and a small one at that," Sansa muttered, tossing her house key on the open kitchen counter.

"But it's so lovely! In the best part of town and brand-new. The living room is huge! I would love to live here!"

"Too bad you are working for a pathetic secretary's salary," Marg pointed out, already making a beeline for Sansa's wine stash. "No wonder you still live at home. Aren't vows of poverty for priests and monks and nuns only?"

"I have a greater reward knowing I am doing a job that truly matters," Myrcella shot back in her singsong voice."And that is more than all the money in the world."

Sansa's stomach tightened at the mention of priests and her jaw clenched as she helped Marg fill three wine glasses. Her determination was stronger than her disgust and hatred but only by a fraction so she smiled as sweetly as she could as they moved to the living room, kicking off shoes to sit on the couch. Absentmindedly, Sansa tossed her cellphone down onto the end table and clicked on her TV, searching for movies while Myrcella and Marg chatted about the apartment and how Marg picked out the decor. 

"Why don't you two pick a movie? I don't care what we watch. A chick flick would work, I suppose." 

Casually she handed the remote to Margaery while she drained her glass, then rising from her space on the couch to amble back out into the kitchen. The liquid goodness seemed to barely touch her with its warmth as she flitted about, her inner self seething.

Of course it was over Robb.

She had planned her little stunt in the confessional with such care, she really had. The timing had been perfect. She spotted Myrcella and knew the little pious bitch was going to make a confession and thought how sweet it would be to get her brother off while having to listen to Little Miss Boring. Oh, he had wanted it, and she loved sucking him off, even if he did stretch her mouth. It turned her on when he pulled on her hair, stoked her desire and need and also her ire. As soon as he heard Myrcella's voice he tried to get away from her and it pissed her off something fierce. The satisfaction of him exploding in her mouth and his eyes drinking her in while she made herself cum was short-lived when she lurked in his office, waiting, only to hear him bypass the offices while talking to Myrcella. A discreet following of them led to a quaint little restaurant and she stalked from a safe distance away, seething, until they emerged, with Myrcella's arm wrapped around his, smiling and laughing. Robb, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Smiling and laughing.

With his sister's saliva barely dried on his cock, he was lunching with his pretty little innocent assistant as if nothing ever happened. Blonde, sunny, untainted Myrcella Baratheon.

Pure little Cella.

"Oh Sansa! Myrcella picked Legally Blonde! She can't get over her Reese Witherspoon obsession! Help!"

Her fingers pressed into her glass so hard she thought it would break. She fought the urge to run into the living room and pull out handfuls of that wavy, honey-blonde hair. Going out to dinner under the guise of a girls' night was torturous enough but this? An actual chick flick? Fuck, she had been joking.

Downing the newly poured wine, she finally felt some warmth and relaxed a little, taking a moment to regroup. Within moments she had the bottle swinging in her hand as she sauntered out, shaking the wine as well as her head.

"Oh, no, I don't think so! I'll compromise on Reese but please for the love of all things holy, not this one. I've got a better one."

She snatched the remote out of Marg's hand before she eased into the couch beside her, Myrcella on the other side of Marg. Deftly she put on the movie she wanted and settled in, outwardly a perfect picture of tranquility.

"Here, Cella, I'm not drinking this all on my own." A sweet smile encouraged her blonde friend to meekly accept more wine in her half-filled glass before sipping while smoothing down her knee-length skirt.

Peer pressure is a bitch, especially for the weak and vulnerable.

"Oooh, Cruel Intentions. I fucking love this movie!" Marg relaxed closer to Sansa. "High school mayhem with sex and drugs!"

"Poor Reese's character. Such the perfect little virgin, and she gives it up to Sebastian within, like, five seconds of meeting him." Sansa laughed. "So much for being virtuous. But I guess dude is kind of hot so I can't blame her. I actually wanted Katherine to fuck him. That would have been hotter."

"Oh, come on guys, no one acted like that in high school -" Myrcella's cheeks blushed. 

"Oh, I did." Margaery grabbed the wine from Sansa and chugged from the bottle. "And I fucking had a blast."

"Margie!" Flustered, Myrcella nearly drained her wine. "I don't think Sansa wants to hear about your exploits!"

"Oh, it's all right, Cella, I had a few moments of my own." Sansa's mind flashed back to Harry. Harry and his friends at his birthday party. She pulled a blowjob train on them until her jaw hurt like hell and then let Harry fuck her while they watched. In her mind it was revenge, revenge against Robb, and she wielded a new power over her boyfriend and his friends. They never breathed a word, eager for an encore, and she discovered she could be as dominant as Robb and take pleasure in it -

"Oh, don't let Cella fool you," drawled Marg, a smirk showing on her wide mouth. "Little Miss Goody Goody has a teeny tiny skeleton in her prissy closet."

"Marg!" Myrcella drained her glass and reached for the bottle to pour more."Don't!"

"Don't what? Ruin Sansa's vision of your prefect goddess self?"

Sansa's foul mood dissipated. This was getting interesting. Had Margaery been holding out on her? She knew something scandalous about her pure little best friend?

"I - it was nothing, you know. We were young and I has my first... alcoholic beverage! I can't leave what I did at fifteen in the past?"

Marg giggled and rolled her eyes before she started in.

"It was Joff's twenty-first birthday. I was dating the little prick. Oh, Myrcella, don't give me that face. You know your brother is a dick and you even warned me about going out with him and as usual I didn't listen. I mean, okay, so I was only sixteen, but it wasn't the age that was bad. Asshole couldn't get it up -" Marg leaned over to grab the bottle back - "and I was going to dump him way sooner but he had connections, if you know what I mean. But I finally felt a hard-on that night!"

"Don't be vulgar, Margie! He's still my brother!" 

"Well, whatever. Let's just say Cella and I were tipsy and ended up kissing. Just a silly little experimental girly kiss, nothing serious. Joff saw it and he really fucking got turned on. Of course, he got a boner watching his girlfriend kiss another girl. He was three sheets to the wind so, well, I'm sure he didn't realize or he didn't care it was his own sister."

"Oh my God, Marg! Sansa, I - I just -"

"Oh, we all have experiences like that," replied Sansa smoothly, even as inside she crowed with smugness. "It's no big deal, Cella."

"I took advantage and dragged him off to his room and fucked the dogshit out of him. It was still disappointing but, well, what can you do?" Marg suddenly laughed. "I have the better brother now."

Sansa peered at Myrcella, who had ducked her head down, her hair falling around her like spun gold to hide a furious blush. As best she could, Sansa faked sympathy and understanding as she leaned past Marg to tilt Myrcella's face up.

"Listen, Cella, every girl experiments. Just like on Cruel Intentions, you know? How else do you think girls learn, right? I've done it, too. It isn't anything to feel ashamed over, if you enjoyed it."

"You have?" Incredulous, Myrcella swiped the bottle and drank straight from it. "I mean, you.. you're so sweet and kind, I never would -"

"What? So wait, I'm not sweet and kind so it's understandable if I mess with girls?" Marg was annoyed. "Yet Sansa gets a free pass?"

"No! I mean - Margie, you've always been kind of wild and all, and Sansa's just so polite and sweet. Just like Father Robb, and -"

"Did you enjoy it, at least? It would be a shame if you didn't." Sansa smiled gently while seething inside at the mention of Robb. "I mean, girls are so much more soft and gentle about it, you know?"

"I-" Cella bit her lip. Sansa could practically taste the abject guilt.

"You'd better say you enjoyed it! I think I would be insulted if you said it was terrible." A pout formed on Margarey's pretty face; something she thought the woman was incapable of. Now both women had flushed cheeks, and Sansa instantly recognized it. How could she not see it before? Here she was, a psychologist, graduated with honors top of her class, and she did not see it before.

Margarey was in love with Myrcella.

No wonder why their friendship has endured through being polar opposites. No wonder why she ended up dating both of her brothers. Love, or at least lust and desire, it was all over Margaery in that moment. The kinky little sexpot had a soft spot... for her best friend.

Sansa felt dizzy with elation. She could kill two Robb-obsessed birds with one stone. This was even better than she had planned.

"You've had enough of this." She leaned past Margarey to swipe the bottle from Myrcella, pretending to be concerned over her tipsy state. Deliberately she brushed up against Marg's breasts to discover hard nipples. After clanking the nearly empty wine bottle next to her cell on the end table, Sansa ran fingers through her long locks and smiled.

"Thank you, Sansa." 

"So.. was it good?"

Myrcella's eyes widened, probably thinking the subject was going to be dropped, and looked at Marg.

"I - I guess?" 

"You guess?!" Marg jumped to her feet, teetering a little and crossing her arms over her breasts. "What the _hell_ , Cella!"

"Well...well..but.. it's.. been so long ago and I was drunk -"

"You had like three sips of a lame-ass wine cooler!"

"Come on, Cella, you are among friends. Just me and Marg and we won't tell. I was just curious," Sansa kept her tone wheedling. "I think Marg would love to get your critique on her kissing skills."

"I - I am sure my brothers are better suited for commentary on that -"

"Yeah, they are!" Marg sneered."I've had no complaints from them on any front, whether it's kissing or sucking their cocks or fucking their brains out. And maybe Joff was a flop in bed but Tommen knows his way around a pussy, with his cock and his tongue! He's so talented he can satisfy two cunts at once!"

Myrcella blanched and Sansa was immediately offended. She had never been asked to join Margaery and Tommen in a three-way. Not that she would do it but it it would have been satisfying to have been asked.

"Oh, look Cella, now you've offended your best friend. How can we make it right and get back to the movie? This is supposed to be a fun girl's night and it's not exactly fun at the moment, is it?"

"She shouldn't be talking that way. Tommen is my beloved brother and I don't want to hear nasty words like that. My brother would never -"

"Oh, he has! Open your eyes, Cella! I mean, _fuck_ , you're living in the dark ages. Sex is fun, anything sexual is fun! Between a man and woman, man and man, woman and woman, or in a group.. it's all the same. It's not my fault you're the only one sitting prim and prissy on the sidelines waiting for some perfect Prince Charming with a virgin cock to pop that dusty old cherry! You fucking liked that kiss, didn't you? Just admit it. You think your God is going to strike you dead for liking a kiss from a girl? Has He yet?"

"Margie, just stop, please!" Her green doe-eyes settled on Sansa in a mute plea for help. 

"I've done a lot that if there's a vengeful, anti-sex God, he would have stuck me dead a long time ago." It probably wasn't the help the little blonde bitch was looking for, but Sansa didn't care."So, you're safe. I mean, this could all be resolved and put to rest. I have an idea. Why don't you let Margaery kiss you? Then you can tell her how it feels, and then we can all settle down to enjoy our buzzes and our teen trash movie."

Myrcella looked hesitant but it didn't matter as Marg swooped in, leaning into her, cupping her face. A second later Marg pressed her lips against hers. Sansa knew her wild friend was a good kisser and she leaned back into the arm of the couch, her legs growing slack. She expected Myrcella to protest more and was a little disappointed at how quickly she relented as her lips moved under Marg's, even as her hands dug into into couch. It was something sexy to watch, even if it was Myrcella.

"Marg -" The blonde confection pushed up into her best friend, breaking the kiss. "Sansa -"

"Oh, Sansa doesn't care. Trust me." Marg's voice was low, throaty, seductive. Sansa knew it well. "Did you like it?"

"It - it was - nice -" 

"Nice?" Marg's eyebrows furrowed together.

"I don't think that's much of a glowing review for your kiss, Margaery. Can't you do better for poor Myrcella? She seems so tense. I bet she wasn't tense at that party, was she? What was different?"

"Her skirt was shorter," Margaery offered, lowering herself in front of her friend, sitting back on her haunches, her slim hands resting on Myrcella's knees. "I had a hand under that skirt. Didn't I, Cella?"

"I don't remember! Not really -"

"I bet you _do_. I remember, and I had more to drink than you. I managed to get my hand in between those tightly-closed legs before you clamped down on me and shrieked."

"Margie. What are you doing?" Myrcella's voice was paper-thin but she didn't move away when Margaery started to caress the hemline of her skirt.

"Maybe you need a better kiss. You know, just like poor little Cecile in Cruel Intentions -"

Sansa couldn't help but giggle as she slid over to Myrcella to gently brush her golden locks from her face and touch her cheek. Soft, flawless, creamy skin with only minimal makeup to accent her beauty.

"I can tell when a girl wants something she can't bring herself to ask for. Sometimes all you need is someone to take control. Remove the guilt so all you can concentrate on just the pleasure. Just let yourself go, Cella."

"But - it's - it's _wrong_." Weak, ineffectual words. 

"Nothing's wrong if it's enjoyed, is it? I'll tell you what. I'll let you in on a little secret of mine, so we're even." She allowed herself to brush her lips against Myrcella's ear."Margaery licked my cunt and it was _beyond_ amazing."

She could feel the quickening breath as Myrcella swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Sansa's fingertips reached out to glide down the graceful neck, stopping at the top of her sweater to toy with her cross necklace chain while she watched Margaery carefully, slowly, push up Myrcella's skirt and part her thighs. 

"But I'm not a lesbian."

Sansa resisted an eye roll as she watched with a detached amusement and noted how very little the Miss Priss actually struggled as Margaery slid a pair of simple white panties off and away. Of course. Simple, pure white, bland panties. It was completely Myrcella.

"Neither am I, Cella. Getting off once to a woman making you cum doesn't make you gay. It's just best friends helping each other out. I mean, it's great the other way around, too. Trust me, licking a pussy is far better than choking on a cock."

Myrcella whimpered and jerked but kept her eyes screwed shut as Margery suddenly pulled her lower on the couch towards her and lowered her head.

Sansa planted a kiss on the perfect cheek before moving way, slipping off the couch and grabbing her phone. She didn't return to the couch but instead knelt on the floor besides Margaery, pushing up Myrcella's skirt even further up, exposing her completely to view.

"Myrcella, you're so pretty," taunted Sansa, allowing her index finger to trail down her abdomen to her thatch of golden hair. It was silky smooth and her folds were pale pink as Marg separated them, licking her lips. Neat, perfect, and unshaven, just like Sansa imagined. She hated her with every fiber of her being but if she had been anyone else, she would want to fuck her, too.

"Thank you," Myrcella rasped, as if she were accepting a normal compliment. "But I don't think - ah, oh!"

Margaery wasted no time as she worked Myrcella, and Sansa wasted no time as she scooted back, tapping on her video option on her phone.

"No, Cella, thank _you_ ," she smiled wickedly, as she started to record.


	21. Sweet Little Myrcella

It had been another long day in a series of long days and Robb was thankful to reach home after finishing off his night by visiting the Manderlys. He was worried about Mrs. Manderly, who was handling her daughter and grandchild's death by self-medicating. Even before that painful experience, he had officiated at graveside services for an elder of the parish. It never got easier but he hated to admit to himself that at least his mind was focused on the duties at hand and left little time to think of Sansa. He had not seen her or heard from her since the incident in the confessional and that had been weeks ago. He was not about to actively seek her out. He hated to admit he missed her and was even more in denial that he desperately craved her. It was time to concentrate on his vocation and return to normalcy if such a thing even existed anymore. It was the only thing that kept him sane lately. 

The life he had was not the one he had originally wanted for himself but he came to terms with it some time ago and accepted it for what it was, turning it into a damn good one. Even though he never felt a calling to this profession, even as he was forced into it or else face prison time for rape and incest, there was no denying he had found a new family and new friends and had a sense of belonging. He needed to focus on it and maybe, just maybe, eventually he could try again to accept Sansa into his life as what she only should be: his sister. The past could not be forgotten but it could be forgiven and maybe it was time to finally let go. However, even as the determination came through, so did the honesty and he knew he could never truly stop wanting her more than a brother should. He had already broken his vows and wasn't so sure that he wouldn't do it again if the opportunity presented itself even though as a man of God he was supposed to resist such urges. She would always be his temptation, his weakness, and his pain, but maybe there was a way to at least be at peace with the only woman he loved so passionately. So intensely. So _harshly_. She had come to Moletown to mend fences and somewhere along the way things had gotten so twisted and he let them. She still has yet to show remorse for her false accusations but perhaps if he could keep her at arm's length and talk to her -

The feel of her mouth on his cock and the experience of being inside of her stirred something terrible in him and even talking to her face-to-face was not an option. Not yet.

Sighing, Robb turned the car into his driveway and squinted. His porch light was off but the street light provided enough light for him to see the figure curled up on the patio furniture, hugging her knees to her chest and her chin tucked down into the collar of her coat for warmth. She looked up as he emerged from the vehicle and alighted the steps.

"Myrcella?" 

She stood up, straightening out her blush colored wool coat and hat before raising a gloved hand in greeting. Her small smile seemed strained and as he approached, he noticed she swept her gaze down to his feet and avoided his eyes.

"Father Robb. I'm sorry, I know it's late. I know. I just was hoping I could talk to you about something? I'm not sure if this is wrong because you are my employer but I have really no one else to talk to and I can't wait for Confession."

"Myrcella -" He racked his brain for a solution to comfort her that didn't involve him but came up blank. "Sure. You can come in, it's more than fine." He offered a reassuring smile before turning to unlock the door, allowing her to enter first.

"Thank you." She shrugged out of her coat and sniffed. He wondered how long she had been waiting.

"Just have a seat, I'll put some coffee on." He made short work of his own jacket. "Maybe give me a minute to change -"

"No! No, please, I - I think it will be better to have you like that. Make it easier to separate priest from man." 

"Alright." He tugged on his priest collar which felt restrictive. It was feeling constantly uncomfortable lately. "I'll just see to that coffee -"

He started towards the kitchen but stopped cold when Myrcella sank to the couch, holding her hands to her face and started to cry. It was then he noticed she looked unkempt, her hair limp in a ponytail as if she hadn't washed it for days. He knew she hadn't looked her best at work and her smile seemed forced. She was still professional but the sunny disposition seemed to be tucked behind a cloud and even though he has asked if she was all right, she always insisted she was fine. Obviously she was far from it.

"Myrcella?" He rushed over to her to sit next to her and gather her into his arms which only seemed to make her cry all the harder as she reached up to grab at his shirt and bury her face into his chest. His own problems and misery were pushed aside as he held her. How many times has he offered comfort to the afflicted? Held a grief-stricken parishioner to him and talked to them of God's love and devotion. Somehow, he remained silent, deciding to just let her cry. Maybe he just had no words good enough to offer. 

"I'm sorry." She choked it into his chest, muffled, before she pulled back to wipe her tears. Her emerald green eyes glistened up at him while her mouth trembled. "You're probably the last person I should be crying on."

"Do you want to share what this is all about? You don't have to." He reached into his black pants pocket and retrieved a hankie that Mrs. Karstark had embroidered for him.

"I - I've lost my best friend." Myrcella dabbed at her eyes and then her nose and let out a small laugh. "I'm getting snot all over your pretty handkerchief."

"Better than my shirt or your sleeve," he smiled gently."It washes. So, your best friend... Margaery?" He tried to keep his face passive. He was sure Myrcella knew nothing about her best friend and Sansa. _Sansa_. _Always Sansa_. 

"Yes. Marg. I think she hates me now and it's all my fault. She's been my closest friend since I can remember. I always looked up to her, how pretty and confident she is. I think secretly I've always wanted to be her, so sure of what she wants and she goes after it. Everyone jokes about opposites attracting when it comes to us but I don't care. I love her and she's like a sister to me. A sister I always wanted and never had. Oh." She laughed brokenly, as if what she said was a twisted joke.

"I am sure whatever argument you've had with her, it can be easily -"

"No, there wasn't a fight. I - I just have avoided her completely. I blocked her number. Won't answer the door to her. She even tried to come into the church office but I locked the door. It was when you were officiating at the funeral. I - hid in your office with the door shut until she left. I - I've called Podrick to take me places so she can't confront me alone. And I feel so sad. Like I threw our friendship away because of my own issues." She searched his eyes pleadingly.

"Margaery is your friend, Myrcella. If there was no fight and you've been avoiding her, maybe you need to call her and tell her why you feel you've had to avoid her. Communication is key to any relationship."

Even as the words fell from his mouth he winced, thinking of Sansa.

"But I can't. I can't do that!" Myrcella jumped up, her arms crossed in front of her chest."I can't look her in the eyes. I'm so ashamed."

"Of what, Myrcella? Unless you don't want to -"

"You will think less of me if I tell you." She bit her lip and looked away, reaching up to twist at her cross necklace so hard he thought she would break it. "And I could not bear that. And I don't want to cause any bad blood between you and Sansa, either -"

"Sansa?" His gut tightened involuntarily.

"You will think I am disgusting. And weak -"

"I would never think less of you, Myrcella." His whole body tensed. Sansa was involved and this could not be good. Yet Sansa has been nothing less than nice to Myrcella and he thought they were becoming good friends. For some reason chicken noodle soup flashed through his brain. He never received Myrcella's. In the Confessional, Sansa's insistence at sucking him off when Myrcella was on the other side. All the little comments about her that he never thought about but now seemed to be snarky in a way. Sansa cozying up to Myrcella the instant she arrived in Moletown. It was as if -

"I know you wouldn't think less of me as Father Robb the priest, but I don't want to lose the respect of Robb the friend. But I have no one else I trust. I just want to go back to the way things were with Marg. And I can't. Not after what she allowed to happen and what I allowed."

Robb started to rise. Bile started climbing into his throat. Myrcella flashed out a hand to him and he sank back down, staring up at her. She looked commanding for a moment - but only for that moment - before her mouth trembled and her eyes squinted. She was struggling not to cry as she drew a deep breath.

"Marg and I went over to Sansa's for a girls night. We ate at a really nice restaurant then came back to watch movies. We even broke out some wine and had a few laughs. I - I was - well, I don't drink much and I know I had too much. I - I don't really know how it all came about but it felt good. It felt good and I let it happen. I - Marg performed...um..Marg put her mouth on me and I closed my eyes and pretended that it was -" She closed her eyes, her hands covering them as if shutting them wasn't enough to block him out. "God forgive me. _Oh_."

"God designed our bodies to receive pleasure. There is nothing for Him to forgive." It felt hollow and automated but it was the only thing he could think to say while his mind tried to process. _How was Sansa involved? Did she push herself sexually on Myrcella_ ?

"Yes, for pleasure within the sacred bonds of marriage. And my thoughts were just as bad as that act was. I try to be good. But I'm not. And He punished me. I've lost my best friend and there's worse. So much worse."

Robb stood and cautiously approached Myrcella, reaching up to pull her hands away from her face.

"I am sorry. But I promise you God hasn't punished you."

"I want to believe that. With all my heart. But -" She shuddered when he brought her clasped hands to his chest. "It was wrong. I am wrong. And Sansa - I thought she was my friend. I know she's your sister and I want to respect that. But she encouraged it. And -"

"And?" He wanted to know; he didn't want to know. He felt her nails digging to his chest where his fingers curled over hers.

"When it was over I was so horrified. I - I wanted to go home. I begged Marg to forget it ever happened and that's when - that's when Sansa showed me her phone. She recorded it. She said - Here, Cella, you and Marg can save a wonderful memory... and she sent it to me and Margaery. I remember she smiled and giggled! I grabbed my coat and purse and ran out. I called Tommen to come get me. I think Marg wanted to come after me but Sansa held her back - I - I never thought Sansa would do that. She's been so sweet. My _friends_ , Robb! My friends -"

Somehow, her head found its way back into his chest and she started sobbing again but Robb stood like stone, the muscle working in his cheek. Sansa took advantage of an inebriated Myrcella and recorded a sex act between her and Marg. Why? Why would she do it?

"Shhh, shh, it's all right, Myrcella. It's going to be all right." His hand smoothed up to stroke the top of her head.

"It's not," she choked. "I have it in me, you know. _In my blood_. It's there! The ability to be so wicked and sinful and wrong and against all of God's laws. I fight to be someone else. I don't want to be driven by my lusts. I don't. It just consumes and destroys and I want to be God's pride, not God's shame."

 _It's in my blood. I fight to be someone else. It consumes and destroys_.

 _Sansa_. A sharp realization stuck him. It was a blow straight to his heart. _Sansa_. She didn't come to Moletown to make amends. She didn't come for the quaint attractiveness of this town or to feel welcomed or to pursue a platonic, normal sibling relationship and start fresh. She was _after_ him.

"Ow, ah!" Myrcella whined a little, wrenching her hand away from underneath his, pushing away from him. He hadn't realized his grip on her had turned to steel and he stared at her. She looked to him like a broken doll, a little lamb already slaughtered by rabid wolves who had fought over her. Helpless, vulnerable. Innocent. So innocent still even after her night of debauchery...a night Sansa had a hand in.

He meant to apologize but instead he found himself crushing her to him and his lips met with hers, his hands on the back of her smooth ponytailed head. She gasped underneath his mouth and he kissed her harder, more fierce, and he could feel her responding, relaxing flush up against his body. Soft, sweet, she tasted like cherries and salvation and escape. His fingers dug into her scalp as he let all the violent feelings in him start to ebb into the kiss, his teeth nipping, demanding. He could feel his blood pumping hot, alive through his veins and her tiny, startled moan inflamed him. With a tiny cry she wrenched free of his embrace, pushing him back with her slender hands, panting and looking at him in abject shock.

Robb hadn't realized how heavily his breath was, or how his whole body felt like lead. He wanted to feel shame for it, know a sense of disgrace in a priest kissing his parishioner and co-worker. He wanted to feel terrible for kissing her when she was the one prattling on about not wanting to be driven by lust, even though she had kissed him back. She was still sweet in his mouth. Sweet Little Myrcella, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

 _His Sweet Little Sansa_. 

"Robb -" She whispered his name and moved a step towards him.

Fighting the urge to dive in for more, Robb turned and fled, grabbing his coat and keys on the way out. He heard her protests trailing behind him but he shut them out, running as if demons were at his heels. They were, those invisible demons, or maybe it was one truly real demon with flame hair and snapping blue eyes. 

There was no traffic at this time of night so he easily crossed town, speeding and running lights like a madman. He was a madman, all of his suspicions and anger coming together in his head. Sansa. He would stop being a coward, stop being something he was not and he would confront her. See her face-to-face and call her out on her lies. Her intentions. The bear donations. The confessional. His mind swirled. His toothbrush. His fucking toothbrush. Sansa sewing for Wylla. Befriending Myrcella. Staying in his home. Everything. He'd been so blind these past few months...

Robb slammed the car in park when he reached the apartment parking lot and raced up the walkway to her door, slamming his fists on the door. He knew she was home when he spotted her car. He didn't care if she was alone or not. Podrick, Margaery, both, it didn't matter.

The door swung open and Sansa stood before him; it was the first time he has seen her this close since she blew him in the confessional. Her eyes were wide and her hair was a mess. She was clad only in a tank top and yoga pants and looked like he woke her up. She said nothing but a small smile formed on her face, near to a smirk, as she let him in.

No sooner did the door close, she opened her mouth to speak.

Robb didn't give her a chance and she was against the wall in seconds, his hand at her throat.

To his surprise, she let out a mangled giggle.


	22. The Unexpected

Sansa twisted restlessly in her bed and glanced over at her clock before leaning up to turn on her light and grappling for her phone, as if she didn't believe the time her digital clock provided. Of course it only validated the reminder that she was alone on a Saturday night and already nestled in bed before eleven. It was cold and snowy so there was really nowhere to go, but honesty forced her to admit Podrick has avoided her completely since Margaery's Halloween party, and neither Marge nor Myrcella were speaking to her now. Other options for fun with people around her own age were extremely slim and she didn't want to go out by herself. Nothing on TV, nothing new worth checking out on any of her streaming services. So, her other option was to say fuck it all; take a long hot shower and crawl underneath her down comforter.

Her posh apartment was too quiet.

She thought she was tired but sleep wouldn't come and neither would a settled mind. Well, when had her mind ever rested? There was always a plan, always a scheme, always some drama she caught herself up in. Always running. Always some man in her bed or a party to attend, always some job to throw herself into. Stopping has never option for so long that she couldn't even recall what it was like to truly enjoy moments of serenity. The closest she had gotten to anything like peace were the nights she would tell Robb goodnight before floating into the guest room to fall asleep with thoughts of assured revenge and payback in her head sweetly wafting through her mind.

 _Assured_ revenge.

She wanted to smile when she caressed her phone but instead she laid it back down on her nightstand and sighed. It was tempting to again watch her short little video but she was already bored with it and she hadn't even sent it in a mass email yet. Oh, it was genius of her to steal and copy Robb's keys; an easy slip into the church office rewarded her with information kept in Robb's desk; a printed copy of all the parishioner's contact information. Cell phone and email information. It was like striking gold. Soon everyone would know what their sweet Myrcella was really like and most of all Robb would see it. She meant to keep it quiet; after all, Margaery had a face full of uptight pussy and Myrcella's eyes were closed; it was easy to get a good take in right when Cella enjoyed it the most and then tuck her cell away in her back pocket. But Myrcella's reaction afterwards goaded her into sending the thing to her and Margaery and even though it ended up causing a rift between the friends, it completely messed up her plan. The only comfort was that Myrcella would never have the stones to run crying to Robb and Margaery was too upset over her friend to be any real issue. 

Her only problem was she hadn't pulled the trigger yet and she didn't understand why. Or, she knew why and couldn't admit it to herself. Sansa Stark was not weak, she did not falter, and she always had a plan. She had lost her conscience on anything she did or her reasons for doing them a long time ago, starting with Harry's birthday party shortly after Robb's desertion. It had been the first time her mother would allow her out of her sight since she had found out about her two eldest children, and it was all because Harry was just such a lovely boy, according to her mother. Lovely. Wholesome. Little did her dear mother know that Harry was as much of a horny freak as she had been. Still, even if her mother found out her darling daughter blew three guys before letting Harry fuck her in front of them, she would probably just have been thankful one of them was not her own brother.

Sansa sighed as an empty feeling crept up into her stomach and then her chest, settling there like a bout of heartburn. 

_Robb_.

She had wanted to ruin his life, torture him mentally and sexually for all the pain he has caused her, but what then? She still had another, far bigger trick up her sleeve than even Cella's little porno premiere. It would truly be his undoing but she needed to get close to him and he was keeping her at arm's length now. Her little stunt in the confessional did not lure him to her but rather pushed him even farther away and she did not know how to reel him in. She still had a duplicated key to his home, so that was something; she could always wait for him and he could not deny her then. Or he could. He's had his mouth on her cunt, fucked her, and came inside of her mouth but the man would still deny her -

The pounding on her door bolted her from the bed and she scampered out of the bedroom and down the short hallway to the living room and the front door. It sounded angry, insistent, and she knew it had to be Margaery. She had been so pissed off and unforgiving as if she's never been recorded in a sex moment. Sansa was sure any man she hooked up with had a visual treat to remember her by. It wasn't like the woman had any standards or moral code.

She could just ignore it but fuck it, she wasn't sleeping anyway. Besides, the pounding started again and she didn't want the neighbors bitching about the noise to the landlord. Hopefully it wasn't some crazed mass murder but then again at this point it would be a welcoming change to another sleepless and lonely night. 

"Jesus, Marg," she muttered, running fingers through her messy hair and pulling her tank top into place. She swung the door open with a grand flourish and her eyes widened in surprise. 

_Robb_.

Even through his wool dress coat she could see his chest was heaving and his icy stare was shooting daggers. She smiled a little; he seemed upset by something and it was a welcome change from his cool demeanor. Sansa stepped aside and he swept in without a greeting. She tensed as she closed the door and locked it, sensing something was terribly wrong.

Before she could even blink or ask him anything he had her shoved up against the wall, his hand striking out to clasp her by her neck to hold her in place. His hand was warm. Instantly she knew by the fury on his face and his manhandling of her that he knew. He knew. Damn Myrcella or Margaery. One of them squealed. The element of shock was not hers to be had and for a second defeat flashed in her brain but having him close and infuriated was its own reward. He had finally touched her of his own volition. An inadvertent giggle emitted from her throat.

"Where is it, Sansa?" His voice was level as he bit out the question."Where is it?"

Her hands flailed up to wordlessly indicate she couldn't very well speak with a hand closing over her windpipe. _Dumbass_. Regrettably he got the picture and released his hold, her skin instantly cooling, but the look on his face did not slacken. The muscle in his cheek worked furiously as his hand found a new home; her upper arm.

Her laugh and smile faded as he yanked her over into the living room, glancing around. She smashed her lips together and refused to cry out but his grip was merciless.

"I'm going to ask you again where it is. And you'd best tell me."

"Wh-what?" She swallowed hard. "What are you talking about?" She knew exactly what he was talking about but she wouldn't tell him.

"Your _phone_ , Sansa. Where is it?" He didn't wait for a reply as he located her purse she had carelessly tossed into a chair. With one hand he managed to open it and dump all of the contents onto the cushion. He let out a huge breath before proceeding to drag her down the short hallway to her bedroom and entered with no hesitation. Of course his eyes naturally gravitated straight to her nightstand. His hand left her arm but before she could bolt he had her wrist in a death hold and she did cry out a little then. It felt like he was breaking it and she stumbled a little when he pulled her to the other side of the bed to pick up her phone.

"Take your phone." He shoved it at her chest but her refused."I said, fucking _take your phone_ , Sansa."

She took it into her free hand and looked up at him. 

"You're going to unlock your phone and you're going to delete the video you made of Myrcella and Margery. Permanently." He growled the last part as if he actually knew what she would do."Do it now where I can see it done."

"Robb." She meant to scream at him, kick at him, but it came out more like a scared little whine. _She sounded more like_ -

"Save me any explanations. Just delete it and I will leave." He released her wrist and she winced while he shrugged his coat off and tossed it onto her bed before crossing his arms in front of him. He looked as if he might truly strangle her and the contrast of his priest uniform was was unnerving. And a turn-on. "I am not going anywhere until you delete it. _Do it_."

"Oh, did Margaery show it to you? Send it to you? Did you get off to it?" She tossed her phone on the bed and folded her arms in front of her to mimic him."It was all for fun, Robb. I know you've been out of the loop for a bit but that's what people do sometimes. Make sexy videos."

She tried to keep her voice patronizing even though her heart started beating rapidly and her blood quickened throughout her body. For a moment she thought he meant to slap her but instead her turned her around by her shoulders to face her bed.

"Pick up your phone, Sansa, and delete it. Or I swear to God -"

"You've been a shit-poor priest lately, Robb." Her voice wavered but she jerked her chin up as his fingers burned into her shoulders. "Swearing to God, fucking your sister, lusting after your assistant -"

"Delete it!" 

"No."

Her one word brought her crashing into the mattress and she gasped in shock. He has pushed her, shoved her face down and before she could attempt to rise he was looming over her, his body coming down onto hers. She struggled to move forward, thinking she could crawl across the bed and make a run for it, but he had her pinned before she could get very far. She had her arms free but in this position they were useless. She felt him reach for her phone and he shoved it into her hand, his hand enclosing over hers.

"Do it." His mouth was near her ear and his raspy breath tickled her earlobe. Fear had pricked her mind until she felt him flush against her. She could feel him hard against her ass. Excitement and validation stirred.

"No," she whispered, and this time his free hand reached down to tug at her yoga pants. She tensed and tried to move away. She did not want him to find out just how wet she had become since he had her by her throat up against the wall. She didn't want to admit it. Had they gone ten years to come full circle? Vivid memories of New Years Eve flashed in her head and she knew a struggle would be futile, an idea bearing more fruit as she felt her backside completely exposed, her yoga pants and comfortable blue panties pulled down to her knees. It was demeaning, degrading, and she braced her self for a smack but instead two fingers shoved inside of her without warning and she cried out. There was no caution as he instantly fucked her with his fingers, and she hated the wet noises instantly filling her ears and giving her away. Hated wanting him. Hated him even more when he pulled his fingers out as quickly as they had entered.

"Delete it, _damn you _!" She heard the belt, heard the zipper, felt his hand leave hers only to grip into her hair.__

____

"Fuck you." She said it weakly and without malice but clenched hard onto her phone as she felt his cock sink into her and she almost cried from relief. No drugs, no illnesses, no person on the other side of the wall. Just them and this moment of clarity.The feel of him was real, good, and honest as he furiously slammed into her, his hand tightening in her hair. Pleasure pooled in her lower belly as his head pressed against hers, his breath hot and heavy. 

____

" _Do it_ , Sansa -"

____

She slammed the phone down onto her mattress and shoved it away from her. If she deleted it, he would leave her cold. _She didn't want him to leave_.

____

Her reward was him grabbing her by the back of the neck to hold her in place as his cock slipped out of her cunt and straight into her ass, eliciting a smothered moan from his lips and a cry from hers.

____

Sansa bit her lip to stave off more sounds. He was slick with her secretions and she was no stranger to anal play but it stung, seared; the pleasure intermingled with the pain but she refused to say stop, refused to reach for her phone. A single thrust buried him in her hole to the hilt and she felt like he was splitting her apart but he stilled for a moment. She gasped for composure but found none as he then started a brutal pace, fucking her with abandon. Dark, feral, no words now between them, no battle of wills. This was her Robb. He was dominating her, breaking her, hurting her.Yet she would never tell him to stop. _She didn't want him to stop_.

____

"Robb. _Robb_ , please!" The burning of her scalp from his hair pulling felt like the sweetest fire and her hand slipped down to wedge between her clit and the mattress. Every thrust moved her body down and forward and her fingers pinched her nub. She was swollen and dripping and the stimulation took away the rest of the pain. He was inside of her, he was hers again. _She was his_.

____

"Bad girls don't get to cum, Sansa." Robb gave her hair relief but he reached down and snatched her hand away, taking both of her hands and slamming them into the bed on either side of her head. "But _I_ do."

____

The final thrust shocked through her entire body as she felt him climax and even though she was denied her own, there was a feeling of satisfaction and release all the same. He still wanted her even after his denial for a decade. He hadn't gotten his wish of her deleting the video. He broke his vows once again. For a moment he was himself again. He wasn't some pathetic faux priest he pretended to be but, rather, he was her Robb.

____

Robb's withdraw was nearly as harsh as his entry and she clenched as he left her body. She didn't know what to do when he abruptly left her lying there and lifted off the bed. She heard the zipper and fastening of his belt buckle as she felt his leavings running out of her and she was already sore. Her ass, her wrists, her head all ached, and in between her legs she was tingling and sodden. Slowly she turned over while reaching down to pull up her pants and underwear, sitting up despite the sudden spurt of leakage. He was already reaching for his coat and his face still held the angry look from before.

____

She could scarcely believe it when he grabbed her phone once again and slammed it into the palm of her hand.

____

"Delete it." His voice was softer now, no doubt he was trying to regulate his breathing. Tiny beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead. 

____

Somewhere the hurt formed but she pushed it down and struggled not to cry.

____

" _Now_ , Sansa."

____

She wanted to confess she was going to delete it anyway. Sansa suddenly knew why she couldn't seem to figure out the perfect time to make Myrcella's shame public knowledge. _She was having cold feet_. It had nothing to do with that little simpering bitch and everything to do with the man in front of her.

____

Silently she unlocked her phone and did as she was told, holding it at an angle where he could see her do it. Her fingertips felt numb, her hand was trembling and her wrist hurt but she did it. She looked up at Robb but his face was like stone and the urge to stand and bury her face into his chest and beg his forgiveness came over her.

____

"Don't worry, sister. You can bring down fire and brimstone on me some other way." He fumbled around for his keys and gave her a long, hard look."Maybe you can call Mother and tell her I raped you again, only this time it's the truth. It worked out well for you all those years ago. Maybe this time around I won't be just be excommunicated from the family and threatened but rather, you can gloat when they throw me in jail."

____

"Rape?" Stunned, she furrowed her brows. "You didn't rape me, Robb. You'd never -"

____

He didn't wait for her to finish as he turned on his heel and rushed out of her bedroom. In seconds she heard the door slam and she stared dumbly into the screen of her phone.

____

_Call mother and tell her I raped you again. Excommunicated from the family and threatened_ -

____

Why would he think such a thing? She racked her brain. She remembered telling her mother she didn't want to be in love with her own brother, she didn't want to recognize her sexual feelings for him. She never said Robb raped her. 

____

Robb refused to talk to her that night after their mother found out and wanted nothing to do with her since. He suddenly decided to become a priest, abandoning his passion for forensic science. Even though Arya, Bran, and Rickon visited him, he never came around the house.

____

_Maybe this time_. This time.

____

Sana clenched her jaw as she quickly scrolled for her mother's name and tapped to call.

____


End file.
